


The Secret Garden

by LoveRetrograde



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, British Empire, Childhood Trauma, Courtship, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/M, POV First Person, Period-Typical Sexism, Possessive Behavior, Recreational Drug Use, Rey Needs A Hug, Slow Burn, Summer Ghost Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 47,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24435220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveRetrograde/pseuds/LoveRetrograde
Summary: Rey is orphaned and sent to England by her grandfather to be brought up and educated for society. She is haunted by her losses and believes herself cursed. Her goal is to return to India, but will she make it back home or be forced to follow the path that has been determined for her?  The spirit that haunts her may not be willing to let her go so easily.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rey, Finn/Rose Tico, Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 61
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more tags as I progress. I planned on making this pretty dark, so be mindful.

_Mary, Mary, quite contrary,  
How does your garden grow?  
With silver bells, and cockleshells,  
And hearses lined in a row._

I hummed the tune of the corrupted nursery rhyme as I watched the rain slide woefully down the window of the coach, dimly lit from the sun that struggled behind the dark clouds that hid it. Inside the coach, blackness.

It followed me, this rain. It had brought with it death and fury, and I feared I would not escape the black shadow that raged in the skies above. I had loved it once, I remembered, only now it was an ill omen and seemed my only companion.

It was months ago, in the summers of India, whence the curse began. We lived near Jaipur, a dry and arid place. It was all I knew, and it was happiness, until mother told me we would be leaving for the state of Kerala. _Grandfather needs your father there._ So the decision was final, we always did as Grandfather said. _It is his great trading empire that has afforded us with such luxuries_ , father liked to remind us whenever we grumbled.

I was loathe to leave my dear friends, some local children, my nursemaid Nani, and some of our staff. Mother chided me when I cried, _You are soon too old for a nurse._ So I said my goodbyes through tearful sniffles as they packed my trunks. Nani packed my favorite biscuits and kissed my tears away before we left, squeezing me tightly. I considered throwing myself to the ground and clawing at the earth to keep them from taking me. They would have to drag me away, but mother and father would surely be disappointed, and I found those antics typically only worked with Nani. Thus we left, and I hung my head from our carriage until my dear Nani disappeared.

The world was far bigger than I had dared dream. On the way to Kerala I was in awe once we reached the green jungle forests, amazed they could stretch so far beyond what my own eyes could see. We even took a holiday to a beautiful temple ruin before we reached our new home. I laughed at the little monkeys as they hopped around and begged me for treats and sat atop a gentle elephant with Father while it ambled through the brushes. Our guides regaled me with stories of the animals in the jungle, great and ferocious beasts such as tigers and monkey kings and wise elephants. Father gifted me a storybook about a little boy who lived among them.

We settled into our new home as monsoon season began. It brought new servants and maids to get to know, only here, the servants did not seek out my company. Mother did not let me out to play as she had once before. Instead, I was to prepare myself for good society and would soon receive a governess to continue my education, as was Grandfather's wish. Until that time, I was confined within the estate, alone, and without friends.

Mother and father were had even less time for me in our new home than before. Father would lock himself in his office to work while Mother prepared for another soiree or event. _It is for the Empire Trading Company_ , she reprimanded once when I accused her of neglect and sent me to my room. The servants ignored me as they went about their business, or quietly gave in to my demands to quell my moods before continuing their tasks.

I realized I was much unwanted and the companionship I had clung to then was now gone. I would never see Nani again, and I missed her sorely. My maid was far older than the last, with little interest in my games. She did not tell me tales of the great Maharajas of past, nor did she indulge me in my mischief. She mostly did Mother's bidding, dressing me up to parade me in front of dinner guests like a peacock. She would pinch me when I misbehaved and claimed I was ornery. I grew to dislike her and made it a game to antagonize her, running from her claws when she whipped them out to discipline me.

Meanwhile, it rained. At first I played, letting the heavy streams fall into my palms from the slanted roofs of our garden terrace. I pretended I was somewhere else, someone else, and not alone. I thought wicked things about my parents and wished to be free to run in the jungle like the little boy in a story book. Sickness took hold of the people, _cholera_ , I had heard them whisper. I was far removed from the horror of it in my safe little world, until I wasn't.

A sudden rocking of the coach shook me from my reverie. The coachman, Charles Bacca, thumped on the hood twice as we came to a stop. I heard him jump from the front, spying his head near the window, and slid it open so that I could see him. The rain pattered down, wetting his auburn whiskers.

“Sorry, Miss. I'll 'ave us going in no time.” He assured.

“I hope it's not the horse?” I had made quick friends with Mr. Bacca, who insisted I call him Chewie, and the large draft horse pulling the carriage, by offering up an apple upon my arrival at the station.

“Needn't worry about 'im, he's a'right, Miss. Just take a look at the coach and we'll be on our way 'ome.” He grinned and dipped his wet cap.

I slid the window shut and sank back into the darkness of my cabin with a sigh, fussing with my kerchief. It was the only visibly white thing I was afforded on my way to England. The rest of me was covered in black. So unusual it was seeing myself in the mirror that I stared in shock at the strange girl in front of me until a maid shook me by the elbow. Mother usually dressed me in creams and white and yellow dresses, or my nurse would wrap me in jewel toned saris and skirts. Grandfather could have allowed me to wear white in mourning, _but you are a child no longer_ , he had said.

The light that did manage to get past the thin glass and dark curtains was muted by my bombazine and crepe mourning gown. It was heavy and long, _to protect you from the cold_ , the maid insisted. It only seemed to assist the rain in further drowning me in sorrow and clutched me in my misery. A dozen buttons lined my spine up to my neck, where the high collar wrapped around and continued high on my chest. It was an old dress, the sleeves and skirts puffed out with too much fabric, and the waist clenched around me painfully. Elbow to wrist was tightly wrapped in more black and more buttons, and I was covered save for my face and hands, a black velvet bonnet shrouded me.

Suddenly, I was overcome with the feeling of drowning in the dark cave that was my chariot. I gasped, as if I had plunged into a dark pool of water and held down upon by a dark force, my chest heaving as I heard Chewie outside the carriage, cursing. I felt all too hot. My hands shook as I opened the window and leaned into it, sucking in the cold air that poured inside and cooling my burning cheek along the wet siding. Dashes of rain hit my face as I steadied my breath. I closed my eyes to soothe the prickling burn of tears threatening to run down my cheeks along with the rain.

I wished nothing more than to open my eyes and see my parents seated before me. Breathing in and out slowly, I steeled my soul. It was a trick an old shaman, Lor San Tekka, had taught me long ago when I was a little girl in the deserts of Rajasthan. _Meditation_ , he had called it. Clear your mind, focus on your breathing. I did so and felt better for it.

“Feeling alright, Miss?” Chewie stopped before me, a kind smile on his face. I smiled and nodded for him to continue. “We'll be on our way again, should be getting home a'fore midnight. I'll bet you're eager to get a warm meal and stop travelin'. You've gone 'alfway around the world, Miss!” He continued on as he climbed up the coach and took the reigns once more, clicking for the horse to continue.

 _Halfway around the world, indeed,_ I thought ruefully as the coach lurched forward. Oh! It felt as if my heart was halfway around the world too. I looked down to my hand, clenched around my white kerchief, nestled in my black skirts and glistening wet from rain coming in through the open window. The gentle rocking of the carriage lulled me in the darkness as we continued and my mind wandered back to India.

It was another soiree, but outside the walls of our villa the city burned with illness. The rains poured down; there had been flooding. We lost some of our staff, but father and mother continued on and assured me that it was the poor who lived like beasts that were getting sick. The air turned heavy and thick in the heat, the rains were brief but torrential, and they did little to cool the summer air. The flies were incessant, no compound gate could keep them away.

Nightfall was our reprieve, and my parents still had their parties. I was sent to my room and given dinner alone as I had been condemned to loneliness within the new paradise I had found. Only one morning my maid did not wake me, but a pain in my stomach, and sudden shouts and screams. Mother and Father did not come when I cried out for them, and soon I felt too weak to move.

A curse descended upon our house, and the rain would not stop beating down upon the roof, ripping me from fevered dreams. I cried in my bed and soiled myself. My maid, who had been so unkind, bathed me and forced me to consume all kinds of liquids until I was sure to burst. She did nothing when looters came into our house and took our belongings. She brought a healing man, and they spoke a language I did not know. He chanted over me, and in my delirium I saw mother there with us, only she was not sick as my maid had told me.

When I was well enough I stumbled from my bed, dirty from my own excretions, and tried to find my parents. The rain had stopped. Smoke billowed through the open windows as men threw broken furniture into a fire. I wandered through the house in my soiled nightdress, weak from exhaustion. I felt famished and parched, my eyes hurt from the summer light shining through the slatted windows. The illness brought darkness, its passing revealing blazing light that burned me. I did not know how long I had been confined to my bed. _How close was I to death?_

I made my way to my parents room and found them there. A sour stench overwhelmed me and I retched upon the floor, soiled and stained already. It was silent, save for the flies buzzing. My father's green eyes stared out at nothing, vacant and empty. _The same eyes as me._ I found myself staring into them, trying to find him there.

It looked as though Mother slept. Dried blood tinged her lips like lipstick, but underneath they were blue along with her fingers. Their room was emptied, my mother's wedding band not on her hand as I traced my fingers over hers. I'm not sure if I wept for them then, but I was dragged away by a fat man and the doors shut firmly behind me. It was the last I saw of them.

The fat man, Unkar Plutt, worked for Grandfather. He was my keeper when I was whisked away from the estate. I am sure he saw to the ransacking of my home, and he did little to shield me from the unmentionable horror of the events that transpired. He had shoved me to the ground when I raged at him for burning the rest of our things. I had little but the clothes on my back, and he ripped my books from my hands to throw them onto his devil's pyre. I could do naught but weep and curse him as I watched the last of my toys burn.

I clung to my maid and begged her not to let them take me, but Unkar ripped me from her as well, and took me to Grandfather. He lived in Delhi where he commanded the company, a great trading empire he spent his life securing. If he was sad to lose his son and heir, I did not see it, save for the black armband on his right arm. He was sure to keep his sorrow to himself alone. I had met Grandfather few times before my parents' death, my visits with him short. I did not remember much of him, but I was now a ward at his mercy, and found he lacked this virtue.

Grandfather did not often allow me to play, instead keeping me close to him or with a team of nurses and maids. I felt smothered. _This land is unsuitable for a young lady,_ he would say. He was a small man, ancient and hunched with sparse white hair and wrinkled skin and bright hazel eyes that seemed to glow in his dark office. He would sit in his hard leather chair as if it were a throne, his eyes coming alight as he relished in the failings of his enemies. Whether he sneered or smiled I could not tell the difference, and in truth he frightened me.

I knew he was disappointed with me, he all but told me outright. A granddaughter was useless to his occupation, though I stood to inherit his fortune, I could not assume his role. Worse yet, I was far too young to be out among society, unready for marriage. He would have to wait several years before I could take on a husband, and he made it clear my husband would be approved by him alone.

He had hoped to have me educated and boarded in France under the care of my mother, but I no longer had a mother to care, as he reminded me. However, he promised I would be properly presented to English society and given over to the care of a trusted friend to be brought up like a noble lady. He was elated when he received reply that Lady Organa, Marchioness of Alderaan, accepted me as her ward, and would refine and present me to society and her noble friends.

Though the land was beautiful, I was again confined within Grandfather's palatial estate, forced to wear black and observe mourning customs of England. I grew morose and thin in my new prison. My skin paled, but my freckles remained to his dismay. He blamed Mother for allowing the blemishes, but still fawned over me. He would paw at me with small hands speckled with age spots. _In time, you will blossom._ He pinched my cheeks and waist when he told me so and limited my sweet fruits and bread, so I was left bereft and with even less pleasures.

It was a horribly rainy day, not unlike today, when he told me that I was to leave India. He was sending me to England to refine myself enough for a husband of his choosing, someone he could trust to manage the stocks and to take over his role in the company. _The name Palpatine may not carry on, but will not be forgotten._ Once again I sat on my bed as servants packed my trunks and bags, though I had but few possessions, nor did I cry.

My dolls and child's dresses had not been replaced, and I was being ushered into womanhood far too soon for my liking. I watched as the maids packed chemises and bloomers, skirts and stockings, jackets and finely woven shawls, ribbons and lace, all for my trip. I would need such garments as I traveled to England. I had the black dress I now wore daily, and a lighter gray dress for the months to come until my year of mourning would end. _Grandfather even decided how long I was to be sad._

He demanded I write to him promptly along my travels. I went by boat and train and private coach, and found some comfort in the vast blue ocean where dolphins jumped from the breaking waves of our vessel as if they were a team of horses. Though I stopped in many grand cities I had read about, my experiences of them were spent staring out windows in dark rooms while the rain plagued my every move. Mourning and my travel schedule prevented me from most social engagements, and those that I was obliged to accept were mostly friends of Grandfather, there to offer empty condolences.

I was passed between people I did not know, one means of travel introducing me to a new team of keepers or guardians to escort me across a continent. I was received in London by some of Grandfather's close friends, the Netals. Their daughter Bazine had teased my sour expression and freckled face, calling me a gardener when I tried to impress the children with stories of India's magnificent plants and animals. She convinced the other children to join her in singing a taunt until I excused myself to my room to be rid of them.

Now I hummed it as the carriage bumped along, my reflection in the glass of the coach stared back at me. Mary Palpatine, a contrary young woman with a dirty gardener's face. _Nani called me Rey, my spots came from the sun._ Nobody here really knew me, and they would not. _I would not let them,_ I resigned myself for loneliness and rain as the spattering continued against the windows. I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders to keep the chill of the night at bay.

“We're almost to Alderaan House, Miss!” I heard Chewie call with a thump.

I peered out the window, the land before me had been black and brown and gray, and I spent the weeks of my journey with my head down and face hidden by my black bonnet. The leaves of the forests were dead and fallen, and I had seen little green, but even the forests were muted and unclear in mist from the rain I had brought with me. The trees of England, few between the rolling hills, covered in snow and mud and puddles, were without leaves. The world I was being sent to was already dead. _Perhaps I died too, and this is my hell?_

Small dancing lights were visible as we drew near the gate of the great estate house, disfigured in the rain now beating down from the sky. The carriage halted and as the door opened a gloved hand was offered by a man of small stature to help me from the carriage. Servants crowded around in the dark, grabbing my luggage from the trunk of the coach before racing off with it. The entrance outside was lit by glowing lamps, hardly illuminating the stone archway of the colossal wood door. I sputtered my thanks as the man led me quickly inside, my dress dragging in the rain and mud.

Though darkly lit, the house was magnificent, larger even than the Indian villas that had housed me once. A clock chimed from somewhere near, cutting through the silence. I pulled my bonnet from my head as someone took my shawl and heavy coat, disappearing into the dark halls before I could turn around. I looked about in awe and sighed at the magnificence of the foyer.

Lady Leia Organa was now Marchioness of Alderaan, heiress of the Naberrie fortune, much to Grandfather's ire. He said she was a meddling woman, a parliament lobbyist and he suspected, had _feminist_ ideas. He found just as much fault with her brother and late husband. I wondered why he would send me to her at all if he thought so. Even still, he had entrusted me into her care and spoke highly of her when he was not speaking lowly of her or her kin.

“Miss Palpatine, I am Dopheld Mitaka.” The man that offered his hand bowed stiffly before me. “I am sure you are tired, I will escort you to your rooms.” He turned pointedly and I followed behind him, hurrying along and trying to take in all the details of the house, nearly impossible in the darkness. _When will I meet Lady Organa?_

“Her Ladyship is away in London.” Mitaka answered my question as if reading my mind. I thought it queer, in this new place and grim mood, and did not like it. When he turned, he was met with my sour scowl. “It is half past midnight, I am sure you would like to rest, Miss Palpatine. Madame Kanata has a hot meal prepared for you, though. Your lady's maid will arrive shortly to help you dress.” Mitaka bowed his head again and made to leave me in my rooms.

“Wait!” I called out. He paused, surprised. “Please, call me Rey.” I begged. I went against my stubborn promise of loneliness.

“Very well, Miss Rey.” He conceded, shutting the door behind him. I was alone again.

I shut my eyes to my new reality as they burned and my breath fell short again. I did my best to breathe regularly and meditate as Lor San Tekka had taught, remembering him fondly. A fire was burning across the room, and its warmth drew me in. I stared, thinking of the embers left after the fire swallowed all the things I had known in India. _Will I never be rid of this nightmare?_

I was not left alone for long as a light knock rapt on the door. I startled and turned to find a young maid entering with a tray, dressed in a simple black dress with white trim and frock. Fine porcelain sat atop the tray, and I could not deny the unmistakable smell of food. I hurried to meet her at a small table placed within my chamber. I was famished from traveling all day, my snacks offered as gifts to the horse. I rushed before the tray and dug my fingers into the soft bread to rip it apart and devour, dipping it in the soup before sucking it from my fingers.

“I see you have quite the appetite.” The maid teased. I grabbed the spoon to try again.

“My name is Rose Tico, I'm to be your lady's maid.” She introduced herself, and a genuine smile lit her round face. I was overcome to finally see a person smiling at me so, without pity or want of something. I burst into tears over my soup, finally having allowed myself to cry.

Rose comforted me then, and allowed me time to myself before urging me to finish my meal as she prepared a bath. Once fed, she eased me in the steaming tub and I sighed into the empty bathroom, listening to rain taunt me as it pattered against the glass of the windows. Rose then helped me dress and brushed out my damp hair before braiding it as my tears continued to fall. I felt as though I were already asleep as she led me to bed, eye swollen from my crying. I stared at the shining silk of the canopy as I sank into the feather down pillows, still finding reason to be sad, but feeling less alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning I woke sharply to bright sunlight. Rose had pulled open the curtains in my room and I strained to see what I had missed in the night. As expected, my room was large and grand with a connected bathroom. Pretty wallpaper covered the walls and there a large hearth with decorative tile and carved wood mantle. It was fully furnished with desks and wardrobes and shelves, mostly empty. My black dress lay out with fresh chemise and bloomers, a beacon to remind me why I came here. My trunks and bags were neatly stacked at the end of the bed, not yet unpacked. 

Rose did not allow me to stay in bed, though I tried, and gently nudged me out. She guided me to a breakfast tray that awaited my attention at the same table I had supped last night. I looked around to see a mantle clock. 

“It's nearly noon!” It was far later than Grandfather had ever allowed me to sleep.

“After the journey you had, we reckoned you'd need a rest, Miss Mary.” Rose mused. She did not seem to share my concern. “You'll be in your gray dress soon enough, Miss. We might have to make some alterations, with your appetite.” 

I sat in my nightdress and watched her fuss over my mourning dresses and underwear as I shoveled porridge into my mouth. “We'll have some more dresses made for you when your mourning period ends.” She smiled, unpacking my trunk. 

“When will Lady Organa return from London?” I asked. She shrugged. 

“I'm just your lady's maid, Miss, they don't usually tell me such things. I was a chamber maid 'fore it was decided you'd come.” Rose smiled. When my breakfast was no more, we spent time unpacking the luggage and placing it in my wardrobe as Rose checked for anything in need of mending. 

Rose continued, telling me all she knew of Alderaan House since she began her employment after the death of Lord Solo. She was a few years older than me, though her worldliness made her seem older. “Her Ladyship prefers to keep a small staff at the estate, very few of us live in the house. Most of the lower staff come in daily from the village nearby. I'll take you on tour of the house, if the weather allows we can tour the grounds.” Rose then helped me dress and fixed my hair into tight buns at the back of my head. I stared at myself in the mirror, my brows knitting tighter together. _There she is, Lady Death._

My face was well exposed and my freckles visible with my hair pulled back in the bright light of the midday sun. I walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. I had fooled myself into expecting to see a summer scene. Instead I was met with an ugly forest of sleeping trees and cold gray grounds. 

I glared out at the ugly scene hatefully. Even the green that managed to survive the frost darkened in the distance. Small buildings surrounded the estate, stables and barns and garden walls breaking it apart as it went on through snowy hills that met a thick dead woods. Beyond that I assumed the little town where the servants lived, the land of the living. 

I huffed and pulled the curtain shut before turning to Rose. “What shall I do now?” I asked her. “When will I meet my governess?” I had spent the last few months following strict itineraries. It was strange standing in my room, my destination finally reached, no where else to go. I felt my heart fluttering the way it did when I was alone on my travels with death as my company. I was eager to have a distraction. 

“You're to have tea with her this afternoon, Madam Maz Kanata, she's a kind soul. You needn't worry.” Rose assured as she watched me worry on my cheek. “Come, let me show you about.” Rose took my hand and led me from the rooms. 

My chambers were located in the guest wing of the house along a long and sparsely decorated hallway. The house was larger than any I had seen before, sitting rooms full of art and studies with books and odd trinkets, bedrooms and powder rooms for inhabitants, finely furnished. There was a great hall for dancing that connected to a large dining room for the Lord of the house to entertain. I wondered if Lady Leia had many soirees here as well. Though the house had large windows, they were curtained, darkening the interior. Rose led me to a small private library with an attached room of maps and trophies and small model ships.

The maps were relics of the late Lord Han Solo, he'd been a hero in the Navy and had spent his retirement racing horses and sailboats in foreign lands. Now his study sat mostly unused, a small portrait of him hung above the mantle. He was a handsome man with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile on his lips. 

I began to imagine Father's face as I looked on Lord Solo, recalling the shape of his nose, the thickness of his mustache, the color of his eyes. _Eyes that were open wide and did not see me._ The unmistakable sound of rain outside the wide windows broke me from my nightmare. Rose had left me to help in the parlor downstairs.

I put the maps I clutched back on the large wooden desk centered in the room and peeked out into the hallway. I had seen few servants during the tour, and thought it odd such a grand estate house would have so few. A house of this size should have dozens of maids and footmen all about, but it appeared that the house was wanting in staff. Aside from the intimidating architecture, there were few furnishings in the halls. 

Taking careful detail of the house along my dimly lit tour, I could see tears in wallpaper, chips in wood trim, doors that looked cracked and dents in the plaster walls, as if a great force had been thrust upon it. Grandfather had assured me Lady Organa was not lacking in wealth and had kept her estate producing income, though I found the interior was wanting of repairs. Rose had excused the dust and disrepair, _My Lady keeps a small house._ I was anxious to meet Lady Organa, unsure if she would be kind and warm or stern and cold like Grandfather. 

I collected my courage and left the room of maps, deciding I would find Rose as my stomach grumbled in dissatisfaction at being near empty. My wandering led me to doors shut and locked, or ajar to rooms empty. I ran into another maid, but she paid me little mind and could not tell me where I could find Rose. I left her to her dusting.

I hurried back up the stairs, trying to make my way back to my rooms. Rose would be waiting for me there, perhaps. I was turned around, and the rain grew louder as the hallways inside the house grew darker, most of the curtains drawn closed. The portraits and few ornaments were unfamiliar. I circled in one area before trying a set of double doors at the end of a dark hallway. 

They were locked as well. I heard shuffling beyond them though, as if someone was inside, and pressed my ear against them to listen. _Who could be within?_ As far as I knew, no other guests were staying with us. Perhaps Lady Organa was home and I could get sense of her character if I could hear her? I quieted my mind, straining to hear. 

“Miss Rey!” Rose called from behind me, and I turned to find her hurrying toward me. “Miss Rey, what are you doing here?” Rose took my hands and began to lead me away, she seemed out of breath. “I did not expect you to leave the library.”

“I-I was trying to find you, Rose.” I explained. I must have looked quite a sight, pulling on the heavy doors and spying like a vagrant. 

“Well, it seems I've found you instead.” She laughed, taking me to a parlor on the first floor. “Madam is waiting for you.” She led me inside and I entered to find an ancient but small woman rise from her cushioned seat before our table. Cakes and sandwiches had been prepared and stacked on china plates with matching tea cups. The room was lit brightly by oil lamps, though a storm raged outside, dampening the happy setting before me. 

I mumbled a greeting and dipped into a nervous curtsy before the governess, who eyed me intently with rich amber eyes. She had olive skin with long black and silver hair, wrapped in a bright turban. Something within her eyes reminded me of Nani, and she wore a beautiful dress of navy silk and white lace, a cashmere shawl shimmering with colorful yarn wrapped around her. She stared at me intently.

“You have the Palpatine eyes.” She concluded. “It is a pleasure to meet you, again, my dear. I have known your family longer than time itself, I feel. You would not remember, but I met you before your mother set off for India, in this very room.” 

I scowled once more at that information, having no memory at all of England. My life began in India, as far as I was concerned. She extended her hand for me to sit. A young page brought our tea and stood mutely nearby as the sound of rain filled the uncomfortable silence. 

I watched in fascination as she added milk and sugar to her tea before picking it up and stirring it with a tiny spoon, the silver clicking against the cup in symphony with the shushing of the rain outside. She took a deep sip and waited for me to take my own cup. My nurse had never offered me such additions to my tea, _chai_ , she always called it. I refused cream and sugar and breathed the steaming aroma through my nose first. It smelled different, but promised warm comfort on this rainy day. 

Madam Kanata watched me with an amused look as I gently sipped at it, before promptly spitting it back out. My cheeks darkened at my poor manners, “I'm sorry.” I whispered into my cup. 

She laughed heartily, and I caught the page smirking out of the corner of my eye. I sulked, embarrassed. “Yes, it has quite a different taste to it here, my child. It took many years for my palate to adjust. I used to avoid social calls for the tea alone.” She sighed, sipping her tea again and taking a small cake from the stand. 

I helped myself to a sandwich, surprised to hear she had lived in India as well. “Why did you come to England?” I asked. _Why would anyone wish to come here?_ I had wanted to say. 

“I was born in India, my mother was Indian, my father English. They arranged that I marry an Englishman. I almost married your grandfather.” She leaned in and gave me a wink. I gaped at her, shocked as she chuckled. “As you know, I did not. My husband was called to England shortly after our marriage.” She explained.

“Don't you wish to return home, back to your family?” I blurted out. _I wish I could go home, I wish my parents lived._

“I built my life and family here with my husband. England is my home now.” She pitied me then, I knew. I stared back at her with burning eyes as our conversation died. The rain once more filling the silence. 

She reached forward and gently took my hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “I know what happened to you, in India. The belonging you seek is not behind you, my child, but ahead of you, right here.” 

I ripped my hand away as if burned by her affection and clutched it close to my heart. “Well I don't want to belong here!” I did not want to hear what she had to say and stood to leave, knowing my behavior was egregious. I grew weary of their absurd rules and dark world. 

“Mary Palpatine!” Madam Kanata's strong voice rang out across the room as I reached the doors. I halted, turning reluctantly to face her. She did not step closer, but she was standing now, and though I was a bit taller, she was an intimidating woman.

“Forgive me. I am feeling unwell from such a long journey. I should retire, if I may be excused.” I replied. I knew what I was supposed to do and say, mother had taught me. Grandfather acted as though I was raised like the scavenging children of the lowest castes. I did not believe my passionate will to be as sinful as he claimed, and mother had ensured I was not completely useless, though the education I had received was not to his standard. 

Madam Kanata dismissed me to my rooms with a disappointed sigh. I was glad for it, that she did not strike me with a rod, though I would deserve. I went obediently to my chambers and threw myself on the bed, rolling in a blanket before reflecting on the events of today as quiet tears streamed from my eyes. I was too tired to put anything more into my despair, so I allowed it to quietly wash over me until my sheets grew damp on my face. 

When I could cry no more and the room darkened, I went to my writing desk and took out paper and ink, lighting a candle. I would write to Grandfather at least of my arrival. I penned a thank you letter to the Netals for their generous accommodation, and drew flowers in the margins of my letter before starting on the letter to Grandfather. I wondered how much information would be given to him about my behavior. _Did Madam Kanata write to him? Did Lady Organa not have a duty to inform him of the well being of his granddaughter?_ I was lost in thought as I stared out at the dreary evening, the worst of the storm now passed, but a chill setting in. 

I had kept my letters short. _I have arrived, the weather is nice, the people are kind, I shall depart, Your Loving Granddaughter,_ I always signed. The weather was not nice, and the people were not always kind. I wrote to him of the grand house and chambers I had been provided. I refused to write my thanks for his governance over my well being, and stuck to facts I thought he might find important. _I have not yet met Lady Organa, but am eager to know her, as you spoke so highly of her._ I knew such praise from Grandfather could mean Lady Organa was just as tyrannical as himself, and I felt myself fill with dread thinking of meeting her. 

I gave my letters to a footman to be posted and returned to the parlor to see if Madam Kanata was still there, wishing to apologize for my rudeness. Instead I found her in the kitchens, talking to the cook and several other staff. “... we will have him prepared to depart by nine o'clock-” They stopped their conversation when my approach was known. I was shooed back upstairs and Rose followed close behind with some of my stockings in hand and a promise of dinner. 

“I'll have to keep a sharp eye on you, Miss!” Rose quipped, though I did not quite understand her meaning. I had always been allowed in the kitchens, and often trailed after my nurse to our own kitchens where I'd be rewarded with a sweet treat. I was not offered any here, and my stomach rumbled. 

“Why is Madam Kanata giving orders to the kitchen staff?” I asked her perplexed. 

“Madam Kanata is not truly a governess, but a trained nurse and old family friend. She helps in management of the estate. She is quite an accomplished woman and Lady Organa has employed her for many years in the care of- “ Rose paused. “Well, I mean to say, Lady Organa keeps a small house...” She trailed. 

I mused again at how queer it was, a house so grand and empty, as I spent the evening watching the servants curiously from the staircase landing as another storm rumbled through the country. They eyed me wearily. I, a silent figure in the shadows of the halls in my black dress. Though I found them kind, the staff were stiffly formal and kept me at arms length, perhaps they knew me cursed.

Rose called to me from inside my chambers, my dinner ready and set on the small table. I sat down to eat as Rose placed packages along the table, from Grandfather. The unmistakable seal, stamped **ETC** , held ribbons to the packages. I bid her open them, not wishing to take part in any pleasure he might have to offer me. They were tokens to perhaps appease me, a glass bottle of perfume, a silver watch, small pearl earrings. I shrugged his offerings away and mindlessly ate the mutton offered to me instead while Rose smelled the perfume and dabbed it on her wrists. 

“Miss Rey, you ought to enjoy these. I'm sure your grandfather-” Rose began while I ignored her. 

“If he wanted to give me gifts he should give them when I am in India.” I cut her off, petulant. I would have to write my thanks to Grandfather, my tether to him tightening.

Rose clicked her tongue at me. “I'm afraid you will be here for many years, yet, Miss Mary. You ought to accept your pretty presents and find some joy in your lot.” I huffed in response. 

“Has Lady Organa returned?” I asked, turning to her. 

“No, Miss. Why do you ask after her so much?” She continued folding the pretty wrapping paper and stacking it on the desk.

“I thought I heard someone in the locked rooms on the other side of the house.” I replied, turning back to my dinner.

“Oh, Pish!” Rose scoffed. “My Lady is in London! Those are her family chambers, don't be silly. They are locked. Off-limits.” She prattled on as I chewed the buttered cornbread also provided. 

“Oh, but I heard-” I began.

“Those are Lady Organa's personal quarters, and you are not to go there. If you heard someone I'm sure it was a maid, she keeps a very small house, I would know who it was.” She insisted. 

“Why would they lock themselves inside? And in the kitchens-” I pressed with a mouthful of food. 

“Ooh!” Rose interrupted. “Miss Mary, why are you sneaking around in the kitchen, anyway? You will fast become a servant yourself if you do not listen to those around you.” She scolded me before turning me around in my seat to take down my hair for the evening. 

I frowned into my peas, stabbing at them with my fork. “I was not sneaking.” Perhaps this house was just another prison.

“I was hired on as a kitchen maid from a mining town, and by listening to Madam's guidance to improve myself I have risen through the ranks of service to a much coveted position. Thankfully, Lady Organa thought our close age a good thing and my years of loyalty were rewarded. As your maid it is up to me to also help guide you, and young ladies do not speak with a mouthful of peas, nor do they sneak around in the kitchen, or press their ears to locked doors.” Rose pulled the pins from my buns, letting loose the braids and tugging her fingers through my hair. 

I relaxed into it, though she did not distract me from thinking about the noise within the locked hall as I prepare for bed. I truly was still tired from my journey but found I struggled to quell my foreboding dread and settle my mind for sleep. It was not a servant behind the locked doors, I was sure, picking at the woven trim on my pillow and watching the dark moon outside. _I am cursed_ , and as the rain beat against my window, I was certain the darkness of this curse was taking hold of my new home once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New to this. I have a few chapters finished and in progress, so I am updating and editing as I learn how. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey discovers a secret!
> 
> Bit of filler and time jump to show her routine and get her out of heavy mourning.

“What's got my lady all out of sorts today?” Rose teased one morning from behind me as she buttoned me into my black gown.

I looked up to meet her gaze in the mirror, only to find myself chewing on my lower lip absentmindedly. “Do you believe in curses?” I asked her quietly, almost a whisper.

“Curses?!” Rose laughed. She thought a moment, a hairpin caught between her teeth. “Well, sometimes when the Traveler's come into the area they set up mystic tents at the summer fair. They say they can remove a curse for a halfpenny, though I never tried myself, but I never thought myself cursed.”

I fiddled with the buttons on my sleeve as Rose began to help button them tighter around my wrists. “Oh, I should be glad when you are done with this silly dress. Buttons and buttons!” She poked my nose, earning a half smile from me at least.

“Do you have a curse about you, Miss Rey?” She giggled.

I looked to her quickly then, my lower lip quivering and betraying my fear. She sighed and and stroked my cheek. “You're not cursed, dear. It's just.. a difficult time. Your heart will mend, I know of loss myself. My dear sister departed just after I came to Alderaan House.”

“I'm sorry, I did not know..” She had not told me she had lost anyone. It seemed this house was full of death.

Rose, however, smiled at me. “Though I miss her, I am not without her.” She pulled a locket from around her neck that she hid under her dress. The portrait of a pretty girl was inside, with a lock of black hair, a match to Rose's own hair. “She has visited me in my dreams. I spoke to her during a seance once. Mediums are quite adept at communicating with the spirit realm. The Traveler's can read your fortune in their cards and crystals too. I bet yours will be quite auspicious, Miss Rey.”

I gaped at her, a sudden panic coming on. Nani told me stories of wicked spirits who would latch onto the living, sucking the life from them until they had the power to manifest and possess. _Did I bring the spirits here?_

My heart quickened and my breath drew labored, my eyes prickled with tears. What would my parents have to say to me, should I try to reach out to them? They had not come to me in my dreams as perhaps loving spirits would. They would surely smite me for the death I brought upon them, wishing them gone. _I was indeed wicked._ My tears began to fall and my knees buckled as I collapsed onto my vanity stool.

“Oh, Miss Rey! Please! Don't be upset, I am sorry. I should not have said..” Rose raced over to my water basin to fetch a cup of water and thrust it into my hands, fanning at my face. “Just breathe, Miss, _please_.”

I took gulping breaths as my face began to tingle and squeezed my eyes closed, trying to take sips of the water she offered. Rose shushed and commanded me to breathe, her voice fading. She led me to the sofa to lie down, a damp cloth dabbed at my burning cheeks. I drew shaking breaths inward as my body cooled and my vision cleared. Rose fussed over me, quite worried.

Rose and Madam Kanata were no stranger to my fits, having spent these past few weeks so close to me. Rose did her best to cheer me, offering her spare time to keep me company and taking interest in the stories I shared about the gardens and animals of India. Madam sometimes gently inquired about my parents and my time with Grandfather, but I did not wish to speak of them, or that horrible time. I shied away from speaking of India most often, not wishing to bring those horrid memories to the surface, fearing I would feed my demons with tales of my spitefulness.

“I'm sorry, Miss Mary.” Rose appealed. “It was rude of me to speak of such things.”

“No, please, I'm the one who asked.” I sat up from the sofa, taking the wet rag from my forehead. “My will is sinful and I must learn to control myself. I-I am trying-”

Rose clicked her tongue. “Tis no sin to feel, you are much recovered already. Madam Kanata says you have made fine progress in your anxieties.” Rose stroked my paled hand in hers. “Sometimes it is best to live through the pain that we feel, so that we may understand it, and overcome it, so Madam says.” Rose gave me a pitying smile and kissed me hand. A tear made its way to my chin.

“Come on, I'll show you a secret! I am sure it should cheer you.” She pulled me excitedly from the sofa, and I stood, somewhat dizzy but curious.

My heart raced again as we drew closer to the locked wing, the house quiet but for the clicking of the grand clock in the foyer. She led me to a curtained Juliette balcony before pulling back the thick curtains that blocked out the morning light. She opened the doors to blast us with stinging cold air. It felt good on my cheeks and helped to calm my nerves, though I stepped back to protect myself from the chill.

“Look there.” She pointed as I drew closer and looked out to the ugly expanse of the estate, unsure of exactly where to look. “Do you see the wall next to the stables?” I nodded. “It leads further back into the woods. Can you see the tree in the clearing, covered in snow?”

I craned my neck, as if it would help me see further. There were many trees all around. “I think so?”

“It's a willow tree, ancient. It rests over a pond in a locked garden. The garden was built for Lady Naberrie, a lover's garden and gift from her husband, Sir Anakin Skywalker.” Rose sighed. “It's so romantic. I have peered over the walls once, there is a crypt and monument to her beauty. The garden is in need of much care though.”

“Why is it locked?” I wondered.

“It's said her husband went mad and sealed it, forbidding anyone disturb it in his grief.” Rose whispered. “Then he left the estate, never to return. Lady Organa is rather sensitive to her mother's death and father's fleeing, she had not made effort to reopen the garden.” I gasped, _how tragic._ It seemed everyone who lived here had faced death and loss in some way. It only solidified in my mind that my curse was real.

“Nobody has found the key for many years yet.” She went on, beaming at me. “We shall go out this afternoon and try to find a way inside!”

“I can't! What if we take ill in the cold?” I took many steps back from the balcony in my uneasiness, back into the warmth of the interior. I also did not wish to disturb the spirits that likely guarded such a tomb, but did not wish for Rose to fret.

“A bit of cold won't hurt, silly. We shall only be out a moment, and I should bundle you up! I'll introduce you to Mr. Finn and we will tell him of our adventure. He will be most helpful in our search, he is a fine man. And handsome.” Rose continued smiling as she leaned over the wrought iron of the balcony railing.

“It would not be wise, my health is quite frail..” I eyed the gray setting wearily, sniffling. Rose tilted her head, eyes narrowed in amusement. I frowned back at her. I had come so close to death already, I should not tempt it again.

“Well.. perhaps when it's warmer then.” She said kindly and took my hand once more. “Come along, we are late for your lessons.” She did not push further, likely to spare my nerves and keep me at peace.

More often than not when I did feel ill she and Madam disagreed and poked me from my bed regardless, forcing me to bathe and dress and ready myself for the day. I was in foul moods those days and lashed out at them, earning myself a reprimand. My goal was to be sent to my room, but Madam seemed to be more stubborn than even me.

My days passed in lessons, music in the morning, and then I would study languages with Madam Kanata. I wished to study Hindi, but it was not Grandfather's wish. Each passing day I felt what little knowledge I had of the language slip from my tongue, and felt myself grow more estranged from the land I held so dear. What would I say to Nani, should I ever see her again?

I took my lunch and tea with Madam Kanata, who allowed me call her Maz in private, so I asked her to call me Rey, and she would instruct me on etiquette and embroidery. After I would spend my afternoon in the study, where Maz continued my lessons, maths and new sciences were all a part of the curriculum. I found I enjoyed geography, making use of the maps in the late Master Solo's study.

“Leia would be glad to see someone in that chair again, I am sure of it.” Maz had said fondly, though she frowned over some of my other assignments, particularly my needle work.

It was not my fault though, as the servants always did the sewing before, and Mother never taught me otherwise. After spending some months here, I realized my education was lacking, and perhaps I was spoiled and indolent, and I determined to do better. I was sure if I tried hard enough Grandfather would be pleased and call me home. _Afterall,_ w _as it not for my failings and ignorance that he sent me away so quickly?_

My holiday was spent quietly with Maz, and we had a merry time with the remaining staff, though quiet and uneventful. I noted the sudden absence of Mr. Mitaka after my first night here, but Maz assured me he was with Leia and would return with her after the New Year.

Grandfather and Leia sent parceled gifts to the house, books and candies and more. Grandfather sent an ivory carved elephant that I placed on my empty shelves with my new books, and Leia sent me a pretty doll. I admit my heart soared when I opened her and saw her darling face, but when I took her to my room and sat to play, I found little joy in it. She reminded me of my life back home. I thought of the crackling and popping of my dolls on their pyre as the heat crumbled their porcelain faces. We stared at each other dumbly before I placed her on a shelf with the other presents.

Maz gifted me a journal with gold leaf edges and bound in hard dyed leather. She urged me to write my thoughts within and guard them as I pleased. It had a small lock on it and came with a tiny key. I cherished it and took to writing it in often. It was indeed a sanctuary for my fears and desires and I felt the uneasiness of my nerves soothed as I relieved my mind, though kept my darkest secrets deep within my heart. I gifted Rose a pretty shawl I had brought with me from India that I thought matched her coloring, and she gave me heavy knitted mittens and hat before dragging me outside in the snow despite my protests.

Every Sunday we attended church services. Christmas service was led by a willowy Bishop with a crooked face, draped in heavy robes embroidered in gold thread. It was ostentatious and I did not care for him. Something about him reminded me of Grandfather, his gleaming eyes and withered skin, and I found the sermons dull compared to the gods my nurse told me of, though Mother had discouraged such stories.

I yawned and had to pinch myself to keep my eyes from fluttering closed. Madam claimed with time and attention I would learn patience and diligence and other virtues. She did not judge me too harshly for my heathenism and her lips twitched when I declared myself a pagan. “Be you pagan or gentile, you will attend church services regardless, young lady.” Maz told me sternly. My efforts to not attend church were thwarted.

My evenings were spent in my room or wandering about the house. I escaped sometimes to a decrepit gymnasium with an empty pool, but was otherwise confined inside when the weather turned but found the library to have a generous supply of books. My breakfasts and dinners were taken in my chambers, my companions being only Rose and Maz. I was grateful for their company when I had it, but the many roles they filled in the house called them away, so I was often left to myself. When my courage returned me to the haunted chambers I found the doors still locked, though the interior mysteriously quiet.

I began to think that perhaps Rose was right, and the noises I heard within was in fact a servant of the house. I made a game of finding all the doors leading to the forbidden wing, from main halls to servants stairs, and would linger, peering through key holes and cracks, until a servant found me to shoo me along or march me to Madam Kanata. She took a different approach to my mischief, and ignored it completely. I surmised she guessed my game and I soon stopped my trespass, finding no entertainment and few punishments for all my effort.

Lady Organa was in London, I was told time and time again. She was often away, far more often than even Father. _A lobbyist,_ Grandfather said once. _A diplomat_ , Madam Kanata corrected me. I wondered why she kept a house so far away in the country at all, and why I was kept in this dead country as well. _To wait out mourning_. It was ridiculous, as I felt my mourning could not possibly end, but I settled into the bleak country winter and became accustomed to my routine as I waited for spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We won't meet Ben for a couple more chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

I arose one morning to a new duty as I stretched lazily in my spacious bed and felt a true smile spread across my face. It was six months into my mourning period, and I no longer had to wear the heavy black dress. I had donned the bombazine dress dutifully while I somberly awaited the happy day I could wear gray, and now that day had arrived. Light rain could be heard outside the windows already. It seemed to never cease as spring continued.

Rose had laid out my gray dress with chemise and stockings. A warm petticoat was also provided to layer myself against the cool spring. I could not help but smile as the dress fell over me and Rose shared my joy. Madam Kanata insisted the dress be hemmed above my ankles before I wore it daily. She disapproved of the length of my mourning gown, insisting I was still a child, even if Grandfather did not seem to agree.

I inspected myself happily in the mirror. The fabric was a simple, plain cotton, as gray as the sky. The sleeves of my chemise ended in delicate lace, and poked out from the more fashionable sleeves of the gray dress. Similar lace flowered around my neck in a lovely white collar. My skin did not look quite as pale in this, and I was glad to see myself in something other than black in the daytime.

“What a lovely lady you'll make, Miss Rey.” Rose picked at the collar and sleeves, sitting me on the stool of my vanity to begin combing my hair. I refused to wear the pearl earrings she brought from the jewelry box.

“Well, at least now you don't look like a ghost.” Rose thought aloud. She told me that I had given some of the kitchen maids a true fright, standing still at a window overlooking the grounds. Rose teased me often for my frown and stern countenance.

I did my best to laugh along with her, wishing to shed the darkness that I feared I would never be rid of. _Could the spirits be back?_ I had heard wailing last night but thought it to be the wind blowing in over the rough hills that surrounded the estate as it so often did.

Rose led me downstairs to the piano room and bid me play through an excited smile. I sat down and began the warm up exercises Maz had given me as Rose disappeared. She came back moments later with new sheet music, placing it over my usual assignments. “Play this, Miss Rey.” She urged instead.

I frowned as I played the unknown song, my performance was not without mistakes. I thought myself a poor student of music though I found it soothing to have my thoughts so concentrated and not focused on the past. I had developed some proficiency at the instrument through my hours of lessons. When I finished the simple tune, Rose clapped heartily. I frowned and jumped at her sudden enthusiasm, not realizing she had stood by, she usually left me alone when I practiced.

“Bravo, Miss Mary!” She cheered, ushering me up and into the adjoining parlor. Inside Maz sat on a plush sofa alongside another woman who watched me curiously with dark brown eyes. The bishop who had given the Christmas sermon sat in a high backed chair next to her. My eyes widened to see my sudden visitors, but I remembered my lessons and stammered through my greetings.

The woman stood and stepped forward, pulling me into an embrace. Her eyes twinkled as she looked upon me. “I'm so happy to finally meet you, Mary.”

I knew this to be Lady Organa. She wore a light green gown with her chestnut hair braided in a crown around her head. She sat me down before them, I on one side of the tea table and the three of them on the other. I breathed in and out through my nose quickly as I stared at them. _Why didn't they tell me I would meet her today?_

The bishop caught me in his gaze, his blue eyes bore into me knowing all my sins. They seemed to glow like Grandfather's. I panicked truly then, my heart racing as my breath grew shallow. I tore my gaze away searching for the kind amber eyes of Maz, pleading with her silently to save me. She knew of my trouble having cared for me these past months. I had found many reasons to go into fits at first, but with her help I was beginning to overcome the suffocating mood swings.

Maz approached me then and placed her hand upon my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, grounding me in the moment as I steadied my breath. “Your piano playing has greatly improved, Mary.” She called me by my Christian name. I nodded, thanking her for her instruction, showing them I was learning all they taught. They approved and Maz took her seat, gesturing at the tea tray. I tried to calm my nerves and took my tea cup in shaking hands.

“Madam Kanata was telling us that you are a diligent student, Mary. You have been putting my dear Lord Solo's maps to use even in his death.” Lady Organa smiled at me. Maz had correctly expected she would approve of my use of the study. I nodded and thanked her, trembling.

“Bishop Snoke is a dear friend of your family and my family also. He has come to see that you are well, as favor to your grandfather.” Leia gestured, introducing me formally to the golden bishop reclining next to her.

I was forced to meet his eyes again and would not allow myself to shy away. I looked at him then, his skin stretched hideously over a crooked jaw and cheek. His nose must have been broken more than once. A great scar ran from one eye and cut through his chin and jaw. It appeared he had no hair at all and I was unsure even if he had eyebrows. He met my gaze with intensity.

“Come closer, girl. Walkabout.” He clomped the heavy cane he held in his right hand on the floor twice. I twitched at the sharp cracks against the polished wood of the floors and stood quickly as if no longer in command of my own body.

“Go ahead, my dear.” Maz encouraged gently. Hesitantly, I walked from our table to the parlor doors and back. I heard the priest's low hum. I tried to keep my head level, my eyes were downcast, embarrassed, unsure if I had pleased them.

I sat back down in my chair once commanded and took a sip of my tea, daring not to touch the cakes in front of me. “Is the girl ready to perform her duties as wife? Has she bled?” I looked up from my tea, shocked.

“She is not yet thirteen, a child still.” Maz replied, grim. I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment. _This was not polite conversation_. I looked up accusingly at Maz who met my gaze. I knew that look from her. She expected silent obedience from me _._

_“_ Young women may be out and married at fifteen.” The bishop stated.

“She should not be married at fifteen.” Leia stiffened. The bishop hummed a reply, of agreement or disagreement, it was unclear. He continued to study me, long fingers together as if in prayer, a gold and black ring stuck out against his white, bony fingers.

“Perhaps still, long engagements are not unheard of. In my youth all young women of importance were out at fifteen. As for whether the girl will be ready for marriage, that is your charge.” He considered me once more.

“My Lady, Madam Kanata,” He stood slowly with great effort, leaning on his cane. “I shall take my leave.” Again, he rapped his cane on the floor, three loud cracks that I could not help but jerk and curl into myself in response. Mr. Mitaka, who I had not seen for some time, came into the room with a caped overcoat and hat for the bishop.

“Will you not stay for luncheon, then, Your Excellency?” Lady Organa asked him, a small smile playing on her face. “We do so enjoy your company.”

He turned to her and I was thankful to have his icy eyes removed from me. “I have much to do for the diocese. Easter service preparations are of most importance. I am sure I will return soon with happier news.” She gave him a grim nod.

Mitaka led him out the doors of the parlor and into the rain now coming down outside. I sat mutely in my seat, unsure of what to say or do, but sure I was to see more of this black bishop and eyed him suspiciously as he left. I turned my attention to Lady Organa as she reclined back and watched me.

“I doubt he is capable of bringing any happy news. Your grandfather wishes you to come out to society and marry as soon as possible. No doubt he would have you out as soon as your mourning period is over. We think it would be wise to wait until you are older.” She explained.

“When I was of courting age, everybody was out as early as possible. I was engaged and married before my sixteenth year.” Maz said with a shrug.

“Yes, nearly a century ago!” Lady Organa teased. “I myself was twenty when I married. I had spent the summer in the Mediterranean with Luke. It's where I met Han and his awful sailboat.” A fond smile crossed her face though she appeared sad. Maz patted her hand. Lord Solo had died three years prior, a failing of the heart, Maz had said. Lady Organa was only a year out of mourning herself.

I chewed my lip. _What did this all mean for me?_ I felt so little control of my very own destiny, and in truth I did not care, so long as I could return to my home far away from here.

“I will write to your grandfather. These days it can be scandalous for a man to have such a young bride. Besides, a girl so young cannot bear children safely, the most educated doctors do not recommend it.” Lady Organa picked up a small puff pastry from the table.

“Young girls can be prone to affairs as they look for love in youthful ignorance.” Maz pursed her lips and gave me a warning look, sipping at her own tea. “To marry is no light task and to folly could ruin you.”

I stared at Maz with my mouth open, but nodded in agreement. I wondered if this is what Grandfather meant when he said Lady Organa was a feminist? Her ideas did sound quite modern, but could he be swayed?

“You should enjoy the rest of your girlhood and refine your skills to make a suitable match. I am sure we can persuade His Excellency to be on our side as well.” Maz looked to Lady Organa.

“If he wishes to be considered for the position of Archbishop, I daresay he will.” Lady Organa determined my fate now. “He will heed my advice and urge your grandfather to trust my good judgment. You will have no short supply of suitors with your beauty and fortune, a long engagement would be an insult to your name, as they are often fruitless.”

I watched her, perplexed, failing to understand the intricacies of a betrothal. How could she have so much sway over Bishop Snoke and Grandfather?

“You should write to your Grandfather candidly, Rey. You must share your feelings with him.” Maz told me.

I looked at her sadly. I could never presume to tell Grandfather what to do. In all his letters, he had never asked me of my feelings. When I first arrived in his care he had disliked my temperament, and my outbursts were quelled by his own cane.

I shivered, thinking of the loud cracks of the horrible Bishop Snoke's cane, another similarity he shared with Grandfather. Nowadays, it was quite fashionable to carry a cane. Men carried them regardless of age or infirmity, and some even had blades within, a hidden weapon. Sometimes I imagined Grandfather running me through with his own blade when his temper flared.

Lady Organa and Maz turned the conversation to fond memories of their own past along with recent gossip and happenings in London and the countryside.

“Might I call you Rey, my dear?” Lady Organa finally asked me. I nodded quickly in agreement, happy she would wish to become my friend.

“I hope you feel at home now, Rey.” She spoke again. My gaze flickered to Maz and back to her. I did not wish to lie to her after she had offered such kindness.

“I miss India.” I began, trying my best to be honest. “You have a lovely home. I am glad to have Madam Kanata and Ms. Tico as companions.”

“I am sorry I could not be here to welcome you, Rey.” She seemed genuinely regretful.

“Rey has been quite eager to meet you, Leia.” Maz informed her. Indeed, I had pestered her often about Lady Organa. What she looked like, about her hobbies and education, her family. Grandfather had told me all these things and more, but I wished to hear it from another. Their descriptions were often conflicting, only increasing my anxiety about the woman in question.

“Grandfather said such nice things about you-” I began, but Lady Organa raised her eyebrow at me. “Truly! Though... he can be a critic... I suppose.” I finished. Maz and Lady Organa laughed.

Lady Organa had spent most of her time in London, but these past few weeks was in the county of Somerset near Bath. I knew Bath was a popular destination for holiday and health, as the milder climate was said to aid the infirm and sickly during the harsh winter months. She assured me she would be home for several weeks before leaving for London again, and we would get to know each other well.

She took keen interest in my time here and promised to take me on horseback through the riding trails of the estate. Mr. Chewie had been teaching me, and would lead me on a fat old pony that he called Artoo in the courtyards to familiarize me with riding. Grandfather did not approve of women riding, but Maz said that he could not possibly know, so I acquiesced and had a grand time with Mr. Chewie and Artoo.

I realized Lady Organa was nothing like Grandfather, and his praise had been genuine in her quick wit and refined charm. I did not feel so afraid now that I had met her. Her promises of happiness and domesticity did not seem to fill the dark void that had been widening inside me, however. I was dismissed when the tea ran out and had my fill of cake. I was given the afternoon to do as I pleased.

I scurried from the parlor and slid the door shut behind me, relieved to be free of any scrutiny, no matter how small. As I made my way to the stairs I overheard Lady Organa and Maz talking freely though a crack in the servant's door on the other side of the room.

I knew it to be quite impolite to eavesdrop, per Rose's chastisement months ago, but I could not help myself as I crept silently to the opened door.

“... She is a nervous little thing.” Lady Organa spoke. Maz hummed in agreement.

“Yes, but she has quite a fiery spirit underneath, despite Sheev's attempt to stamp it out. I believe she is quite terrified of him.”

“Sheev was always a martinet.” Leia sounded angry.

“Her fits have improved, though she refuses to speak of her parents.” Maz continued. “I must say, I am surprised he would even send her to you, Leia. There are schools and governesses, families with far more loyalty to him.”

“Pfft! It is to torment me with that which I cannot have, I am sure of it. I doubt he expected me to agree.” There was a bitterness to her voice this time. I heard a long sigh from inside the room. I could not make out Maz's words in reply.

“I mostly did it to spite him, but Marie was my dear friend before she married, how could I say no to her child?” Lady Organa continued.

I gasped.. was I not wanted here, either? There was a long pause between them and I held my breath, thinking perhaps I had been caught.

“How is Benjamin?” Maz asked, quietly. That name was not familiar to me.

Lady Organa chuckled, though she did not sound amused. “He hates me, as always. That damned bishop is inside his mind.”

There was a short pause before she continued. “I am sure I will lose him to them, forever.” Her voice broke. “He will never forgive me.”

“You could not have known … damned hospital … asylum … Snoke.” I could hardly hear Maz over the soft sobs that came from Lady Organa. I felt my trespass deep in my heart, this was not a conversation I was supposed to hear, and I was suddenly ashamed.

I crept away from the door and made my way to my room, my own eyes stinging, feeling betrayed and hurt that there seemed to be nobody on this earth that wanted me. I dined alone in the evening once more, pushing my food about my plate, sullen. Rose sensed something bothered me and prodded, but I could not tell her of my poor behavior, let alone what I had heard.

I wrote to Grandfather to tell him I had met Lady Organa, finally. He often requested details of my life and friendships here, and I did my best to satisfy him, writing him weekly though I received few letters in return. I thought of what Maz said, about telling him what was in my heart. Grandfather had not once asked me about my feelings, _not once_. He only wanted to know of my achievements in my studies.

I had hoped to assure Maz and Lady Organa that I respected their advice while still wishing to do as Grandfather expected of me. I penned many letters, but found them crumbled on my floor, unsure of how to express myself to him. I imagined him receiving my letter and flying into a rage. What if I did not please him? He had once threatened to disown me and sell me into servitude, would he have Lady Organa cast me out too? I just could not bring myself to tell him of the guilt and ache within my soul. _Your Loving Granddaughter._

I gave my letter to Rose after I was prepared for bed, and she retired as well, leaving me alone in the dark room with my dark thoughts. My curse plagued me still. I watched the clouds drift over the moon outside my window as sleep took me.

* * *

A howl woke me from a dream I could not remember, and as I opened my eyes my room was horrifically brightened by a strike of lightning. I gasped and sat upright, spotting a dark figure in the corner of the room.

My dress form emerged as another strike of lightning lit the room, a trick of shadows. Thunder rumbled at the window as I heard the unmistakable ping of fat rain drops hitting the glass. Relieved, I scurried from my bed to the dresser with the water basin and poured myself a small cup from the pitcher to cool my fevered anxiety.

_Ahhhooooooaaaahh!_ Another howl _._ It sounded pained, a wailing. _Had the spirit felt the weight of guilt on my soul shift when I shed my black dress?_

I turned and stared at my door, goose prickles tingling across my arms and legs. I had thought the noise was made by the wind outside, but it was muffled, and came from beyond the door. I clutched the cup tighter in hand, shivering in my nightdress as I crept toward the door. My hand reached out for the knob as I strained to hear beyond the spattering of the rain in the darkness. _Am I dreaming now?_

Lightning struck again, a clap that made me jump and drop my cup to the rug below, spilling the remaining water with a splash on my feet. Another shrieking wail echoed through the halls and stopped at my door. I jumped away, clasping my hands to my mouth to stifle the shriek I nearly returned to the pitiful creature.

_The malevolent spirit has returned to drag me back into the depths of its black realm_. I ran to my bed and dove under the covers whispering a prayer I had heard in India to keep the demon away. I repeated my prayer, over and over, muttering and crying until I fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet some of Rey's friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter! I have to do lots of research as I go along to try to add some realism. Victorians were all about the spooky.

My sleepless night was not overlooked by Rose as she tilted my face up to apply a cold cloth to my eyes. They were red and swollen from last night's tears with dark circles underneath. She checked my head for fever while she tutted, debating to send me back to bed.

She urged me to eat my breakfast when I pushed the porridge around and finally called for Madam Kanata. Madam also looked inside my mouth and pressed upon my stomach to check for pain. I scowled at her care and pushed her hands away.

I debated to tell her of the curse and the spirit that was haunting me, but did not wish to risk bringing my curse upon her when she had been so kind. I was told to rest in my room and Rose dressed me in my gray garments.

I had thought the gray dress a reprieve from my guilt but found a new worry as I studied myself in the mirror. I could feel the spirit of my body being drained of all energy and happiness, feeling any moment I would disappear into the gray fog of the estate grounds. _Like a spirit in the mist._

I begged to wear the bombazine again through quivering lips. Rose denied me incredulous at the request. I began to sob which left her aghast at my sudden despair.

“Miss Mary, we must all accept and move past death.” She took my by my shoulders, squaring them and giving them a squeeze.

She could not understand what would possess me to want to don the black gown once more. How could I begin to explain it to her? The gray dress was simply a new death shroud.

I sniffled into my pillow for the rest of the morning.

Eventually Maz returned to my room with lunch and Rose. “She's in an awful state again, Madam.” Rose whispered to her as I listened from under my blankets.

I heard Maz approach and sit on the bed next to me before she tugged the sheets from my head.

“What ails you child?” She urged me to speak of what troubled me, pressing her palm to my forehead once more. I curled my knees to my chest and turned away from her.

“We can mourn those we love no matter what we wear.” She tried, perhaps thinking of my parents. I dared not respond. After a pause she presumed it was Grandfather and the prospect of marrying.

“You do not have to worry about him, dear. He's just an old man from a different time.” She chuckled as she stroked my hair. “He only wants to see you brought up and married well to be cared for. We will assure him there is time yet, you have many years and many beaus ahead of you.”

Still my tears flowed, and the longer I thought of the ghost and Grandfather, the more I remembered of the terrible beginnings of why I was here, and I sobbed loudly into my pillows. It had been months since my last crying fit had confined me to my bed, but Maz was patient, and only rubbed my back and allowed my tears until giving me a tincture that caused me to drift in and out of a heavy sleep.

I carried on like this for two more days, but was soon forced back into my former routine, though I was peckish and grumpy. I confined myself to my room or library when I could, searching for books that proved the existence of curses and spirits, finding mostly fiction.

A laundry maid found a book on the occult and vampyrism I had hidden in my pillows, and it was promptly confiscated. Maz was sure my sleepless nights came from such books and eventually banned them from my possession, collecting them from the library and my room. I could not tell her the truth for fear I would expose her to such horrors intimately known to me, and she might think me wicked for the death wish that brought the cursed spirit upon me.

I wondered briefly if I were going mad. My mind wandered during my lessons and I was distracted in conversation by any slight noise echoing within the empty house. _Was it servant or spirit?_ A door slamming shut or floorboards creaking. It was during the night that I could not be sure if the sounds came from reality or my nightmares as sleep teased me so.

The spirit raged one night and wailed pitifully the next. I heard thuds and glass shattering from beyond my door in the dead of night as it searched for me, waking me from my disturbed slumber. The next day vases or furniture would be missing from the halls or moved to a new location and paintings ripped or burned as if someone held a candle too close to them. The objects were returned or replaced, repaired, eventually. It was as if someone or something was raging through the halls in the night.

The servants carried on, as if nothing was amiss, and during the day the spirit hid from me, its presence only known to me in the latest of hours. Their lack of care willed me to spy from cracked doors into empty hallways, trying to spot a vase shattering of its own will. I knew the spirit raged for me to join it. I had angered it when I shed the black dress that wed me to it.

_A phantom of exceptional power could expend forces of energy across the spirit world into the living realm_. So it was written. Men of science had invented machines to reveal them, phantoscopes would call forth the spirits into a phantasmagoria _._ Some mediums used Ouija boards to communicate with the spirit world, and the spirits would spell out their own names or answer simple questions.

Rose gave me sewing to keep me busy when I could not be dragged from my room. She insisted I embroider the sleeves of my gray gown and said it was to be a day dress for play, and my mourning would be over. It shook me to think there was to be an end to it at all. _What would I feel of my parents death then?_ The entire idea sent me into a fit.

Finally, it seemed Madam had had enough. She dragged me outside one afternoon into the fresh spring and commanded me to play through all my frowns and tears. “It is inappropriate for a child to be inside all day.”

“I will become sick!” I made to move past her, back into the house, but she blocked my way.

“Nonsense! Out with you!” She shut the door in my face and it did not open when I banged my fists upon it.

It seemed she had instructed the servants not to let me in either. I made my way to the back entrance where one of the scullery maids merely shook her head at me through a window. I kicked at the door to get her to open it, but she threatened her ladle at me menacingly until I stomped away.

Sulking, I turned to look out at the estate and gardens. The grass was slowly coming back to life and some greenery could be seen in the deadened trees. The birds chirped and patches of flowered weeds sprung from between mud puddles along some of the stone walls and paths. The sun was out fully and helped warm me in the wool overcoat I wore.

In the distance I could see the team of draft horses used to pull the coach and work the fields being let out to graze in the pasture. I made my way to the stables to visit Mr. Chewie and the rest of the horses.

Upon my arrival, Artoo pushed his head from his stall and bumped into my shoulder, no doubt looking for a treat.

“You are too familiar, Artoo!” I scolded him kindly as I scratched his snout and he searched my fingers. He was a fat Welsh pony, blue dun with a white diamond on his face.

The commotion brought out the shimmering champagne coated gelding stabled next to him, Lady Organa's very own that she called Threepio. Over his back a warm red blanket kept him cozy, and I offered my hand for scratches to his ears as well.

Mr. Chewie was out in the training yard with Falcon, a lovely white mare, the last horse Lord Han acquired before his passing. I approached the gate and climbed atop to watch them, waving.

Falcon was a thoroughbred, lively and spirited. Mr. Chewie said Lord Han won her in a bet as a foal. Now she was a riderless horse with no master. Lady Organa could not part with her as she did some of the other racing horses from their personal stables. She still stabled other horses to produce income, and Mr. Chewie could be hired to train them, but they were usually kept in the guest stables.

“How're ya today, Missy?” Mr. Chewie called to me through the thick whiskers that covered his face.

“I've been kicked out of the house, Mr. Chewie!” I responded in better spirits. “I should move into the stables.”

He laughed at that before letting Falcon into a paddock to run as she pleased. I wondered if I could truly move out of the house, Mr. Chewie had his own cottage near the stables and garage that housed the coach and carriages. He _would_ have room enough for me. He made his way back to the stable barn and I hopped off the gate to follow, trailing at his heels.

“Perhaps I could ride Falcon today?” I suggested to him.

“Eh, she's a finicky one, Miss Rey, can't trust 'er not to buck ya.” He pat my head before handing me a bucket filled with oats.

“I'm much improved though. Artoo is so old, I should break him if I grow anymore.” I pouted, the bucket heavy in my hands.

Artoo neighed at the sound of his name, waving his head up and down, riling Threepio into clicking his teeth in response. Chewie shushed them both before taking the bucket and moving to give them their meal. I followed at his heels once more.

“Falcon needs an experienced rider, Miss Rey.” He warned. He did not believe my riding proficient enough though I had spent some time perfecting my form and command of my little pony at his instruction.

“I'd not forgive meself if somthin' were to happen to my favorite lass. This house has seen enough heartache.” He said somberly.

Chewie strictly forbade me from mounting her though she seemed gentle enough. “Perhaps when you're a bit older, and so is she, we'll see.”

“Then I should practice every day I can.” I took the bucket from his hands to help with his tasks, moving to the water trough and filling it. If I made myself useful perhaps he would see I could manage her.

“Can I ride Artoo now?” I asked, sloshing water about the hay strewn floor.

“Not today, Miss Rey.” He took the bucket from my hands to give some to the stabled horses.

A whistle came from behind us. Mr. Finn, the Groundskeeper of the estate, carried a large ladder about his shoulder. He likely made his way about the grounds to check for necessary repairs to the walls.

“Good afternoon, Miss Rey! Charles.” He dipped his cap in greeting as he passed.

I made to follow him, running from the stables behind him, like a duckling without a mother.

“Wait for me, Mr. Finn.” He turned and I had to duck under his ladder.

“Watch out!” He laughed, spinning again to make me dodge him. We were quite chummy.

I had taken to following him about during the winter when he had been inside the house to patch the walls and take care of various other needs. He had worked as a porter before coming to Alderaan House and even served in the military briefly in India.

“Ms. Rose not about today, eh?” He inquired after her. I rolled my eyes. He and Rose quite liked each other, and I often found myself an unlikely chaperon to them when Rose insisted we walk the grounds, seeking out his company. He lived in the gate house and had made a good salary, as she often said.

“I was put out to play. I will be lucky if I do not catch cold, or worse.” I sniffled and made sure to check the buttons on my coat.

“Fresh country air is good for children.” He winked, smirking. I huffed, walking beside him.

“Mr. Chewie shan't let me ride today. There are no children here to play with. Rose is attending her duties.” I kicked at the pebbles along our walk.

“Say, Miss Rey, how'd you like to see the garden? I've got my ladder, you need only peek over the wall.” He changed direction, motioning me to follow with a tilt of his head.

“Well, alright, I suppose I could look.” I was hesitant, unsure what I should find if I peered over the wall onto the tomb within, but gathered my courage.

We made our way to the edge of the woods, following a path that ran from the stables until it ended at an ivy covered fortress. Mr. Finn placed his ladder against it and bid me climb while he held the bottom steady.

“Careful now. Hold tight!” He cautioned. I climbed upward, until I reached the top and could see over the stone wall.

Looking upon the garden I could see it was in need of care. Dead brush and leaves littered the earth while thorny rose bushes sprawled unchecked. Weeds flowered all around and I spotted a rabbit within. Some of the stones about the wall had fallen and cracked. In the center of the garden was a man made pond below the willow tree Rose had told me to look at from the balcony. In this murky pool lie a stone slab elevated barely out of the water.

I gasped. _Was this the tomb?_ It looked as though a woman rest atop it in sleep, cast in dark bronze, though I was too far away to make out the details of her sarcophagus.

“I see the tomb!” I called down to Mr. Finn. I surveyed of the garden once more before I began to descend the ladder back down.

“Yes, 'tis a pretty place to rest in peace. It becomes a jungle in the summer.” Mr. Finn said.

“Have you not found the key?” I made my way to the door, curtained in overgrown ivy and pulled at the round handle. It did not budge.

“Nay, no key yet, Miss Rey. Could be in the house or about this whole estate. Could be the master took it with him upon his leave.” Mr. Finn mused as I peered through the key hole.

“Will it be locked forever?” I asked. I wished to go inside and look upon the sleeping woman.

“My Lady hasn't given leave to open it by force and I do not wish to upset her.” Mr. Finn explained.

“Why should she not wish to have it open?” I asked, perplexed. It seemed a waste of a lovely garden.

Mr. Finn sighed. “Her Ladyship has suffered many losses in her lifetime. Each of us grieves in our own way, Miss Rey.” He looked at me knowingly, and I understood him. I looked away from his gaze.

“Won't she be angry?” I was concerned. Surely the spirit within demanded veneration.

“Lady Organa?” Mr. Finn asked, confused.

“No!” I eyed the garden wall before whispering, “Lady Naberrie.”

Mr. Finn chuckled. “It's said she was a kind soul. She's in heaven now, not haunting the living. I ought to get back to work. You go about and have some fun now.” He took his ladder down and made off to continue his day. I thought on what Mr. Finn said about grieving.

_How did I grieve?_ I wondered to myself, thinking of my tears shed and heavy heart as I made my way back to the great house. I was unsure if my parents were in heaven. If they were, whose spirit was it that haunted me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who could it beeeee?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey faces her demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this two chapters, it's much longer than previous chapters, but I also wanted to get this part over with! Hope you enjoy.

As I made my way back to the house I spotted the carriage of Bishop Snoke near the entrance. I was correct in my assumption that I would see more of him. He had called upon Lady Organa thrice since I met him, mostly in the evening. I would watch from my room as his carriage drew near and he hobbled slowly to the entrance of the house. Sometimes, a nun with a nurses cap accompanied him. I wondered at what he might be here for this day?

“There you are!” Rose approached me, a basket in hand and my gifted shawl around her shoulders. “I thought you could use some company. We can take lunch by the lake. Lady Organa and Madam are with Bishop Snoke this afternoon.”

With Lady Organa now residing in the house, I was sometimes called to breakfast in the dining room. I felt quite the grown up sitting there with them at the large table, and did my best to show off my good manners and maturity.

Rose reached her hand out to me and I took it, a skip in my step. I told her of Mr. Chewie's promise to ride Falcon and how I climbed the ladder to look within the garden. She shared in my excitement enthusiastically as we guessed where the key could be hidden.

“Why, Miss Rey! You are quite a bonny lass without that frown about your face.” She teased me as we settled onto our blanket by the lake. I gave her my best toothy smile and she laughed. We feasted on ham sandwiches spread with mustard sauce and fresh greens, and the cook gave her a block of rich cheese. She cut up juicy plums so that we might share their sweetness.

Rose told me of the Easter celebration to be had this weekend. There would be a long church service, followed by a garden party and egg hunt for the children, myself included. I was sure to receive sweets and small gifts to celebrate. After the Easter parade in town, Lady Organa would have a dinner party in the evening, though I was not yet permitted to join. I would have my dinner alone as usual.

I spent some time picking at some of the early wild flowers that sprouted around us to take inside as they reminded me of the flowers I picked in India during the summer, though unique in their own way. By the end of gathering them my stomach pained me, and I regretted eating so much.

Rose and I watched the bishop's carriage leave after we finished our lunch. I helped her fold the blanket as the sky darkened once more. It looked like it would soon rain again, and I sighed. I was so tired of the rain, it felt as though it had been raining for a year or more.

I took in the ominous great house in the distance. _There, in the window!_ The spirit watched with a pale face.

A scream escaped my lips as I jumped, dropping the basket to the ground, the content spilling out and tumbling down near the lake edge. I made quick to grab the rolling cups before they were lost to the water.

“What is wrong?” I startled Rose, and she turned to look upon the house as well.

“I- I-” I stammered as I looked back to the house to the window where I had spotted the spirit. It was there no longer.

“I saw a toad...” I did not wish for Rose to think me mad or ill. My heart raced and my mouth went dry, perhaps I had seen a servant, as the maids saw me once and believed me a phantom.

“Well then, you might kiss it and make him a prince.” Rose teased. I did not laugh, but continued to pack the basket that I had emptied. Rose bid me follow her, but I hesitated.

“I think I should stay out and play.” I said, unwilling to go inside.

“I should think not! It will rain soon, come along.” She grabbed my arm and began to lead me back inside, and though I tugged away, she did not let go.

“First you did not wish to go out, and now you do not wish to go in! You are most contrary.” She chastised me along the way and I scrunched my face at her, remembering Bazine Netal and her lame teasing.

Once inside she took my coat and gave me a new letter from Grandfather. I hurried to my room to open it and read what he had to say as the worst of the rain began to fall upon the house and thunder rumbled outside.

_Dearest Granddaughter,_

_I write to you in strict confidence. We must work to secure our future, and it is impertinent that you procure a list of attendees of the Easter celebration for our knowledge. You will likely find the guest list within her office. You must not ask her, for she would not trust you with such details. Burn this letter once you have understood your task. Do not fail me._

He had given me an address on a separate paper that I might send the guest list to. I threw the letter into my hearth and watched it burn. Grandfather had warned me to be on my guard for those that should seek to manipulate me for our fortune. He was most distrustful of those around him and made it clear that the trust he placed in me was bound by blood. To betray him would mean to sever any bond between us. I would truly be left with no one then.

He claimed that Lady Organa's family had once sought to take over the empire he had worked so hard to build, and sneered with delight in telling me that he had taken his revenge, and would take more. I angered and threw my sofa pillows across the room, knocking the stationary on my writing desk onto the floor.

I shivered even though the fire warmed me and felt my energy from the day drain. I did not wish to be complicit in his schemes, nor betray or hurt Lady Organa. She was most kind and graceful, and I admired her. I picked at the skin on my lip, at a loss of how to be loyal to Grandfather and her Ladyship. It seemed I must choose one or the other, and Grandfather left me little choice.

_What harm could a list of names do?_ I knew not the strings that Grandfather pulled all the way from India.

I could not fail him, he had commanded me! I had seen the gruesome scars of the punishments some of the servants had suffered by his own hand. He was quick to get rid of those that angered him and we all lived in fear within his compound. _He would not hesitate to be rid of me as well._

Before coming to him I had heard hushed discussion of the horrors the mercenaries with ties to Grandfather's company committed in Northern Africa. There were arguments sometimes when my parents entertained visitors. Sometimes I listened and watched from the hallway banisters. _War crimes_ , I had once heard a man shout angrily at my father before taking his leave of our home.

Though I felt little love for Grandfather I was compelled to seek his approval. I had written to him often of those I met. Anyone not within our circle, Grandfather claimed as enemy, especially the s _tockholders,_ and he devised ways to take back his shares and gain more power within the company. Grandfather often lamented I was not yet out or permitted in social company myself, as he wished me to be his eyes and ears here, but he claimed himself to be a patient man.

I spent my evening crying, to Rose's frustration. “You have had such a lovely day, Miss, why spoil it with foul thoughts?” She did not know of Grandfather's instruction, nor the specters that threatened my sanity.

She placed my picked bouquet in a small vase on my nightstand in hopes to cheer me, but eventually brought me a cup of tea mixed with a foul liquid. The spirit did not reach me that night as I was weighed down in heavy sleep.

Instead I was haunted by another spirit, that of Lady Naberrie. I dream I was locked inside the garden with her. When I turned to look upon the tomb in the pool, the resting image of the beautiful lady was gone, leaving an empty space for another. I pleaded with those outside the walls to let me out, Rose and Maz and Mr. Finn, but they shouted back that they could not find the key. _This garden shall be your own tomb_ , their voices called. I resigned, wading into the frigid water to lay upon the stone bed myself as rain pelted my face and mixed with my tears.

I made it my mission to carry out my task successfully. If I did all that Grandfather asked, surely he would allow me to leave this hellish place?

My chance to go into the office came after breakfast the next day. Lady Organa announced that she would be going to town for provisions for the holiday with Maz later in the day, and upon returning we would decorate our hats and bonnets for Easter in lovely silk ribbons and flowers. She invited me to join them, but I felt fatigue and asked to be sent to my room to rest.

After pacing in my room for some time, I swiftly made my way to the office where I knew Lady Organa managed her household. She was often within, writing correspondence and arranging political affairs. It was also where Mr. Mitaka kept the books, as a steward would. His job was ever as changeable as the other staff and I could not quite place his role here. I knew him to be an educated man, and he seemed well compensated for his loyalty, living within the house while here.

I cut through the many unused rooms and hidden halls for the servants to avoid being seen in case anyone were about. Thankfully Lady Organa did not keep much staff in the house, so I was not spotted. Mr. Mitaka was hardly seen to me during the day, he mostly was about in the evening. I wondered if perhaps he suffered from some ailment himself, as pale and frail as he appeared.

I felt a new excitement as I got closer to the office. I was playing at a game of subterfuge and I carried out my task with a new found rush. My anxiety was replaced with adrenaline as I crept inside quietly and looked around when I knew the room was without Mr. Mitaka.

I made my way to the largest desk, looking for anything that might be useful. A holiday itinerary was laid out with a dining menu and invoice receipts. I flipped through the bundled papers until I found the guest list, clearly marked with attendees who had accepted and those who had not. I felt alight as I quickly penned the names on a scrap of paper, many of them unknown to me, but several stuck out as I remembered Grandfather's rantings.

My body prickled as I shoved the paper scrap inside my skirt pocket before placing the notes back into their arranged stack. A pamphlet for the _National Hospital for the Paralyzed and Epileptic_ was tucked underneath a desk calendar, no doubt Lady Organa's chosen charity for the holiday. Rose mentioned there was to be a charitable raffle during the garden party.

I felt guilt burden me once more. _Lady Organa is a charitable and gentle woman, and I am a rogue within her home._

As I made way to leave, I spotted a tintype portrait on the bookshelf. A finely dressed woman, Lady Organa, beside her Lord Han atop a horse. A spindly stable boy stood nearby, leading a white foal as they all smiled. I drew nearer to inspect it, but a newspaper on a side table drew my attention away.

LONDON CHOLERA OUTBREAK

I snatched the paper from the table to read the article, the blood draining from my face. Several hundred people had died in the borough of Soho, mostly children, and physicians were baffled and at odds for the cause of the outbreak. Physicians debated whether theorized microorganisms or plagued miasma was the cause. A young physician espoused germ theory, claiming the disease dominated the intestinal tracts of the victims where it multiplied until the sickly succumbed, and drinking water should be boiled to decontaminate and avoid infection.

The newspaper fell from my hands. The curse I had brought was raging after me _._ The prickling feeling upon my body was no longer from the excitement of my burglary as my chest began to tighten. I backed away from the desk, feeling myself grow faint as I struggled once more to breathe in air. My breaths came in tight wheezes as I realized I could not escape it.

I knocked into the door behind me, reaching with numb hands to turn the knob and put as much space as possible between myself and the dreaded paper. In the hall I stumbled, knocking over a misplaced chair. I heard a door creak open behind me and strong hands grab my arm as I nearly sank to the floor with the tumbling chair.

“Miss Palpatine!” It was Mr. Mitaka, though I hardly saw his face. “Are you well?”

I felt the world tumble below me, the hallway spinning. Mr. Mitaka held me up, shouting unknown words at someone beyond. He was perhaps carrying me as I was floating. In the distance, the blackened eyes of the very spirit that had finally manifest itself in physical form stared at me. The phantasm of a young man with a sunken and paled face peered at me from a doorway, partially cloaked in the shadows of the darkened room where it dwell.

_It has come for me_ , my lasting thought as my consciousness fled.

When my mind returned to me, I felt a pounding within my head. A cool rag lay across my forehead, and Madam Kanata sat on the sofa near my feet. Mr. Mitaka stood nearby, and Lady Organa was seated near my head. I looked at each one of them in turn, unsure of how I came to be here. They all looked upon me with worry.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Maz asked with care as I slowly made to sit. She helped me, easing a pillow behind me to recline.

My lip quivered as my tears fell, and the pounding in my head grew worse. The buttons at the top of my dress were undone and loosened. I clutched the rag to my head, remembering my mission. Upon feeling outside the pocket of my skirt, the soft crinkle of the paper. _I have not yet failed,_ I thought as I sniffled.

“I had found her near your office, My Lady, and was able to catch her before she injured herself.” Mr. Mitaka replied quietly.

“I was looking for Rose!” I offered through my sniveling, sitting up quickly for fear I was in trouble for trespassing.

“It's alright, Rey.” Maz calmed me, pressing me further to the pillow.

“What brought this one on, Rey? You must speak to us about what troubles you so.” Lady Organa tilted her head to me, offering a willing ear to relieve my terror.

“I. Wish. To. Go. Home!” I wailed, heaving the words out between my sobs. Lady Organa came to sit by me on the sofa, wrapping her arms around me.

“Shh, shh, dear heart.” She rocked me as I clutched to her.

_I do not deserve such love from her._ I sobbed harder, snot and spit dribbling down my face and onto her dress, but she seemed not to mind.

When my sobs turned to whimpers, she released me to Mr. Mitaka and he carried me to my room. Maz helped me dress for bed and tucked me in, urging me to sleep before leaving to get me a tonic. I rushed up to find the note within my dress pocket and place it within my desk before burrowing back into my bed. My exhaustion overwhelmed me and I quickly dozed off before Maz could return with any medicines to soothe me.

My eyes fluttered open to a new pain in the night. Deep within my guts I ached. I whimpered as the realization of my ailment dawned on me. I clutched at my stomach and rose from my bed, new tears coming and the pain in my head returning. I felt that sharp pain again in my abdomen and hurried to the bathroom to sit upon the toilet, the only light came from the moon glowing through my windows.

My stomach churned as my stool expelled, too familiar to the sickness that had once almost taken my soul. Once relieved, I made my way to my bedside to light the candle lamp that stood next to my flowered vase. I threw back my covers and screamed when I saw the blood upon the white sheets before I fell once more to the floor. _Cholera_.

I pulled my nightdress round to see another small stain of red from my behind. I ran to my door, wrenching it open and stumbling through the dark hallways as I cried. The entire house was asleep and the only sound beyond my huffing breath came from the clock ticking below. _My time has come_.

I crept to Rose's room in the night, clutching the railing of the stairs that led to her small bedroom as I made my way up to her door. It creaked as it opened, the moonlight from her own window revealed her to be sleeping. I approached her, the floorboards creaking and huffing heavy breaths through my tears.

“Ooh!” She roused from her slumber and sat up quickly.

“ _Ch- cholera. It's cholera._ ” I sobbed at her, clutching the nightdress round for her to see as she sprung from her bed to light her own lamp. In the light she gasped and rushed forth to grab me and place me in a chair.

“Hush, hush, it's not. It's your-” She tried her best calm my nerves as I shook and sobbed. “Oh, Miss, it's just your monthly.”

“I'm _dying_!” I insisted, not understanding her.

“ _Stay here_.” She commanded before throwing a robe around herself and rushing from her room. I sat there shivering in her cold room, the little iron stove cooled in the late hours. The pains in my stomach had seemed to pass, though my head still hurt.

A moment later she was joined by Madam Kanata, and they gathered me up and led me back to my room. They stripped me and placed me in a cool bath and my tears joined the water as I clutched my knees to my chest. When done, Maz had me wear an odd cloth belt with padding tucked between my legs before laying me down again upon clean sheets. She had dismissed Rose back to bed and tucked me in herself.

“You must call a doctor.” I begged her, but she denied me, tucking the covers around me. I insisted I would die, and in rushed words told her of the curse that followed me from India and the newspaper print of the children that died in London to prove it.

“It is here to claim me, too.” I whimpered as she listened with pity.

“You are not _cursed_ or sick. It is not cholera that ails you, but a new ailment. It is _menses_ , Rey, and you are now nearly a woman. It will go away in a couple days.” She explained kindly, though she seemed tired. “If it hurts tomorrow, I might give you opium for your pain. You must rest and I will explain more to you in the morning.”

She left me there after she blew out my lamp and set it back next to the vase with my pretty bouquet. My hysteria from the day pulled me under once again to sleep.

It was not the morning light or Rose that roused me this time, but the creaking hinges and click of my door handle as it was shut in the night. The soft pattering of rain sounded from outside as a new rainstorm blew across the estate hills.

I sat up in my bed, my abdomen no longer aching, but felt strange in the belted rags about my hips. I was sure the door was just pulled closed as my eyes fluttered open when I woke. Perhaps Rose had come to light my morning fire?

I rose from my bed to get a drink of water and lit my candle lamp before approaching the water pitcher. The clock on the mantle read three and ticked as I blinked at it sleepily. The darkness outside let me know that it was not yet afternoon, but the earliest hours of a new day. Rose would not come for several more hours.

Setting my candle down at my bedside, I noticed the flowers that had been placed in the vase were no more, save some fallen petals and leaves on the nightstand.

I looked back to my door angrily. _Someone has taken them._

I wrapped myself in my dressing robe and approached my door, little light in hand. I opened the door, peeking outside, the light of the candle only seemed to darken the hallway in contrast, the weak light not reaching far. I held it out to the dark space, and shadows danced in odd shapes as I stepped forward into the hall. There was no other loitering outside my room.

In the distance I heard a strange noise, as if mice sang in tandem, and a rolling rumble echoed through the house. I followed the noise cautiously, my heart beating fast. I could no longer deny the demon that called me, and I felt ready for it to take me from this foul house after all the torment I had suffered at its whim.

The noise led me to the dreaded hallway doors whence I first heard the spirit beyond. I pressed my ear to the door and heard the tell tale groan of a door hinge within. The blood that tied me to Grandfather also cursed me as a villain, and my punishment would be to allow this demon to take me to hell, and my death wish gave me the bravery I needed to follow it.

_I shall end my curse tonight!_

I gripped the hallway door and turned the knob, allowing the door to open silently. I stepped beyond the threshold into whatever hell awaited and saw the same door cracked open where I had spotted the face of my demon earlier that day.

I approached it with waning courage, each step more difficult than the last as my fear began to paralyze me. The sound of shuffling within the dark. _Did it anticipate my arrival?_

I heard its angry growl and a clattering of objects hitting the floor as it raged within.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I made my way to it. With the certainty of my own death wish, I pushed open the door and allowed my candle reveal the black devil to my very eyes.

“Put it out!” It hissed at me from the corner of the room.

In my surprise I followed its command and blew out my candle, gasping as I was now left in eerie darkness, save for the weak light that crept in from the open door and window.

“Are- Are you a ghost?” I asked, gaping at the misshapen form hunched in the corner.

It wore the white sheets that ghosts often did. Its legs curled underneath it, bare and pale. Two long arms reached out to hold it upright. It lurched forward to grip a side table and began to pull itself up.

A heavy huff of breath left its jowls as it struggled upward. A large claw swiped at a dagger that lay embedded within a portrait I recognized as Lord Han. It missed and slumped over the table instead, now turning its angry eyes at me. I only stared back in abject fear.

“ _Worse._ ” He said through gritted teeth. Again, he lifted his body and with straining arms raised himself to his full height, rearing his head at me.

“I am a monster.” Spittle flew from his mouth, and I could see snot ran down his nose to his quivering lips. I blinked, almost unbelieving my own eyes.

_This was no monster, nor spirit._ This was a boy, older than me as I inspected him in the darkness. He was tall and gangling, and his black mop of hair hung down to hide large ears, one of which poked out from his hair. The black eyes that had stared at me from the dark doorway earlier stared at me now, shining with tears that also wet his pale face. His long legs hung down uselessly below him and he gripped the table.

Again, he swiped at the dagger, this time successful in pulling it from the portrait. He and it clattered to the floor with an _Oof!_

I scowled at him as he slid himself across the floor to a wheeled chair and pulled himself up into it. The white sheet about him was just his own night shirt that covered his knees but revealed thin legs and bare feet. I watched his legs and toes twitch in jerky movement as he settled into the chair, and snatched a blanket off the floor to cover himself.

“You have ruined it!” I chastised, giving him a withering glare. _How could he harm a portrait of Lord Han so?_

“I am Lord of this house!” He snarled. “It is mine to ruin and you will not speak to me so!”

I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. _“_ I am a guest of this house.” I reminded him. _I was no servant!_

“You are _my_ guest. I have not given you leave to enter my chambers, nor look upon me!” He responded in kind.

“You have entered _my_ chambers and stolen _my_ flowers.” I accused.

“Pfft.” He turned his head, smirking.

“Would you deny it?” I asked incredulously.

“I don't have your stupid flowers.” He lied to my face, and I could see he took delight in it. I gasped at his lie, looking around for them in the dark.

“I want them back.” I said and made my way round to look. A heavy book hit the nearest wall with a thud, and again when it hit the floor, causing me to leap away.

“Leave at once! Out! _Get out!_ ” He shouted at me, and I looked over my shoulder to find him reaching for another object to throw.

I turned at once, running from the room, afraid he might throw his dagger at me next instead of at a painting. I hurried to my room with quick but quiet steps and threw myself into bed and under my blankets. I feared he might come after me, but as I watched the door, he did not return.

I scowled at myself, feeling my own childish stupidity. _I was not cursed._ The dumb spirit that had tormented me all this time was just an irascible cripple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That irascible monster!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has some questions answered and goes on an egg hunt!

The next morning I was made to wash again and given a fresh padding for my new plight. Rose chortled at my ignorance and Maz came to my room to explain the private workings of my womanhood. I thought it unfair that I should suffer a curse from Eve when I took no part in it. I grumbled in dissatisfaction to think I would be made to bleed regularly from here on.

It was a bitter thought that should one of my curses end, another began.

“Please don't tell Grandfather!” I begged her, embarrassed and worried it would mean marriage was ever closer. She promised she would not have to tell him and it made no matter as I would not be let out to society until I was at least fifteen, and marriage was like to be even later.

I was distracted as I ate my breakfast, pondering on my discovery of the boy who had been residing within the house, but did not dare bring attention to my nighttime wandering.

It was perplexing, _Why had I not been told of him? And who was he?_

No one had thought to mention him, rather they spoke of the day we would have together as I ate my breakfast. I learned I was a woman only in name, for they were not permitting me to let down my skirts or eat at their dinner parties, and Rose still styled my hair as a child would wear, my locks half up in ribbons and the rest tumbling to my shoulders.

I was led to a sitting room to join Lady Organa in decorating hats for Easter this Sunday. I peered at her cautiously as we worked, unsure of how to bring up the crippled boy within her care. I thought on the stable hand I spotted in the tintype. It would not be unlike her Ladyship to provide care for a servant under her roof, as charitable and kind as she seemed.

Instead I worked silently, keeping my secrets to myself. I focused on pinning black ribbons and white flowers made of silk to the bonnet Lady Organa bought for me while she was in town the previous day. She and Maz spoke happily of the holiday as I listened for any sign of the nocturnal spirit and wondered when he might wake. I grew frustrated and taciturn as the afternoon wore on and when we finished was excused.

I ran outside to play and found Mr. Finn in one of the terrace gardens in preparation of the afternoon garden party. I hung around him until he gave me a spade to help him. We worked in silence as I continued to check the house windows to see if perhaps the boy watched from his lair. _Was he lonely?_

“What has your attention today, Miss Rey?” Mr. Finn asked as he noticed I was not on my task and reached forth to right the imported Dutch tulip bulbs I had tipped over.

I chewed my lip, wondering if I could reveal my knowledge to him. Mr. Finn was my dear friend after all, and I felt I could trust him with my secret.

“Did you know, there is a boy within the house?” I whispered, finally.

Mr. Finn raised his eyebrows, looking back to the house to scan the windows that called my attention. “Ahhhh,” he nodded, returning his eyes to the earth. “So you've met Master Solo.”

“Well no! I mean, yes. Sort of..” I said, not wishing to disclose our improper introduction.

He looked at me curiously, a lopsided smile on his face and sighed. “Benjamin is Lady Organa's son.” He said finally.

“Her son?! But... why has she not mentioned him?” I went on. “Why is he hidden? What has happened to him? He is in a wheeled chair, and he stole my flowers!”

Mr. Finn sighed as he worked. “Perhaps it is not my place to say.”

I urged him tell me more and swore with my little finger I would not say a word. Mr. Finn tugged on it with his own laughing and relinquished.

“The young master suffered a riding accident a few years back. He is not often here, he will be gone soon I'm sure. Don't you worry about him, Miss.” Mr. Finn finished, offering me a pretty tulip to replace my bouquet.

I was not yet satisfied. “Then why has he been kept a secret?” I pressed, sniffing at my new flower.

“That I don't know. Perhaps it was his wish not to be revealed to you. He is a private young man.” He offered with a shrug.

“Why has Lady Organa not told me of him?” My questions incessant.

“She suffers with him, I'm sure, but I cannot answer for her.” Mr. Finn replied to me, revealing nothing. I sighed.

“Where does he go when not here?” I pressed on, my questions answered only giving way to more questions.

“Somewhere for his health, often away with the bishop.” Was all Mr. Finn supplied shaking his head.

Mr. Finn bid me go back inside when he finished, and I took my tulip to my room and placed it in my vase. If I wanted more answers, I would have to ask Lady Organa. I loitered in the hallway where I knew Benjamin's chambers to be, though heard little noise from beyond them in the day. Mr. Mitaka found me perched at the stairs many times, often shooing me along to go play elsewhere. I wondered if he knew Benjamin had been revealed to me, but I could not find the courage to ask him.

Easter arrived and I was given a new dress to wear made of soft linen and dyed a light lavender. Black velvet ribbons decorated it, tied in bows, symbols of my mourning. Rose herself wore a maroon dress of her very own rather than her maids uniform, and her own chip hat was pinned with real red poppies and deep green leaves. She did not stay as long as usual, her holiday was her own, but came to help prepare me for my day. She would spend the rest of her day in the company of Mr. Finn.

I rode in the large coach with Maz and Lady Organa, led on by Mr. Chewie, as we made our way to the grand abbey in Bath. Rose, Mr. Finn, and a few of the other staff members followed in a carriage behind us to join in on the Easter parade.

The abbey was exquisite, and we had a short tour before the service. I had not seen such a large and marvelous structure since my stop in Paris when my carriage passed the Notre Dame. It had high vaulted ceilings and beautiful stained glass. Many gentile families attended this service, and they nodded and smiled as they passed by us to their seats in the pews. Everyone was in gay spirits and sang pretty songs as the services went on. I was loathe to find the sermon was much longer than my regular visits to the little church by the grand estate, and listened with heavy eyes as the preacher led us from the pulpit in sermon and song.

As I craned my neck to look around, I spotted the ugly Bishop Snoke near the alter. He was seated with other bishops in purple robes. He sat as still as a corpse as he listened to the sermon with his lopsided smile. When we were called to pray I bent my head obediently, but peeked up to spy on him, letting out a squeak when I found he stared at me now instead. I dropped my eyes and squeezed them tightly shut, wondering if he would call out my impiety to Lady Organa.

After the service we stood nearby to watch the clergy lead the parade before joining in. It was joyous with many brightly colored dresses and flower crowns. I saw others who were also in mourning, with smiles on their faces. Some of the people in the parade carried flower arrangements and banners while others sat in three wheeled carriages that they pedaled themselves. From the side many people cheered, and the people who rode in carriages in the parade threw out candies to the crowd.

We returned to the coach to ride back to Alderaan House. Along the way, Lady Organa stared out the window forlorn, herself lost in thought while Maz dozed to nap. I wondered how to breach the taboo subject of her son and feared she may be angered or upset by my prying, so instead turned my attention to inspect the pretty cards with painted Easter greetings that had been given out during the parade.

The garden party was offered to those after the service as well as the people who lived in the small town nearby, food and drink and fun to be shared for them and their children. Lawn games and badminton nets were set up as sporting games for the adults and children alike. Mr. Chewie gave pony rides to the children around one of the nearest paddocks, but I stayed seated under a white tent where I stuffed cakes and sandwiches and boiled eggs into my mouth and filled up on a tart lemonade.

Lady Organa took me round and introduced me formally as her ward to some of her closest friends, but my mind continued to focus on Benjamin who had not been brought down to join us. I was able to escape the pinching fingers and small talk of Lady Organa's friends when the egg hunt began for the children, and she gave me over to Maz to join them.

Maz gave me a small basket to go and collect eggs for myself, and I ran through the lawns and gardens with the rest of the children, trying to beat them. Small clay tempered eggs were decorated with pastel paints and hidden in the grass and nooks within the grounds. They were filled with candies wrapped in delicate paper, and some even held coins within.

I could not help but turn to peer often at the house to see if the Benjamin watched from his window as I thought more of him in his lonesome and tragic state. I decided I would save an egg for him as an offering of friendship, carefully tucking deep in the pocket of my dress. I took care not to crush it, not wishing to ruin its surprise, as I made my way through the gardens, searching greedily for more.

I looked at my basket, I had only been able to snatch up three of them for myself, save the one in my pocket. I continued on, deeper into the edge of the wood along a low garden wall, looking to see if perhaps any were hidden deep within. A hardness underfoot gave me pause, and I thought perhaps I stepped on one. I raised my foot carefully to see, but there was no pastel clay in the grass and leaves fallen from the previous season.

Instead, a little metal stick stuck out from the ground. I bent down, setting my basket next to me and dug at the earth, dirtying my hand.

“The key!” I shouted in surprise as the treasure revealed itself, and I looked up excitedly to see I was alone in my joy.

I tugged it from the ground and brought forth a clump of mud stuck to its end. It was long and heavy, with two square studs on one end and a rounded heart on the other. I cleaned it off as best I could, dirt wedging itself in my nails. It was large and heavy, still muddy and staining my hands. I used my dress to clean it, and realized I had covered myself in mud.

I shoved the key in my other pocket, snatching my basket from the ground and running off to make my way to the locked garden door. Instead, Madam flagged me down and called me over to her. The egg hunt was at an end and I was made to sit and listen to the speech prepared for the charity service.

“Had you thought the eggs buried, Rey?” Maz clucked her tongue at my dress and did her best to remove the worst of the mud as I squirmed, eager to unlock the hidden wonders of the secret garden.

I was unsure to tell her of my secret, _what if Lady Organa did not wish me to enter the garden and took away the key?_ I thought it best to keep it to myself, like all of my secrets.

A tinkle of glasses began as I sat and began to crack open the eggs I found, unwrapping the sugared candy within. Lady Organa stood patiently the terrace before the crowd. A banner behind her announced that the charity was indeed the National Hospital, but it was Bishop Snoke who began the speech. I had not seen him arrive to the party.

“Thank you to our dear Lady Organa for hosting today's event.” Bishop Snoke began, a small toast was given to Lady Organa, who gave a polite bow of her head and wore a sad smile on her face. He said a prayer and gave a short sermon on the importance of charity and the teachings of Jesus. I yawned loudly, and Madam gave my thigh a light smacking followed by a scowl.

“Sorry!” I bristled, but she shushed me.

“Thank you, your Excellency.” Lady Organa rose to speak. “As you know, this charity is indeed dear to my heart. I know that the services they provide reach far and wide to those that could not otherwise afford the necessities that are offered by their good physicians to bring health and happiness to the invalids in need of relief from their injuries or deformities.

By His Grace, we shall one day provide healing to all of England, the children, women, and men who suffer in isolation. Together, through charity, we can extend these services beyond the reach of poor houses and wretched asylums that profit on the plight of those without a voice of power of their own.” Lady Organa paused, taking an inward breath. When she looked up to the crowd, I thought perhaps she may begin to cry. Instead, she raised her chin and once more provided to us a smile that did not reach her eyes.

She extended her hand to a table before her, an open book and donation box was placed there. “Please, if you have means, take part in our raffle to raise money for the Hospital, and I thank you all for being here.” She broke off, taking her leave back to a small group of ladies who welcomed her with open arms through a quiet and polite applause.

I gathered the coin that I had found within one of my eggs, and made to drop it in the donation box. Bishop Snoke watched from his seat with a satisfied smile on his face and beckoned me to him. I approached reluctantly, and he pulled me near into the crevice of his arm, one hand holding tight to my shoulder while the other wrapped around my wrist so I could not escape.

“How pious of you, my child.” He said quietly in my ear. “You have done well by your Grandfather, we are most pleased.”

I shivered, but did not answer him. _So he knows of my deviance and assistance in the plot._

“I am sure we can find a suitable reward for you in the future. Tell me, what is your heart's desire?” He pried. I squinted at him in the sun, my bonnet forgotten on my table with my cake and lemonade.

“I should like to return to India.” I said slowly.

He chuckled, squeezing my shoulder tight. “We need you here, my dear. Perhaps there is something else?”

I shook my head, scowling. I wanted nothing more than to leave and go home! Bishop Snoke nodded his head in turn. “In due time. Run along to your nurse.” He released me as Madam Kanata approached us, and I quickly went to her arms for refuge.

After some time playing a game of lawn bowls with some other children, Madam Kanata took me inside and back to my room. The party was winding down and many of the families made to leave or sent their children home in preparation for the evening dinner.

She prepared me for bath and bed, and said a dinner would be brought to me by one of the maids working tonight, Rose had the rest of the night off. When she left I took to inspecting myself in my mirror. My cheeks and nose were pink from my time in the sun, no doubt the freckles on my face would darken. I did not mind them though and smiled, pleased with myself.

I listened as I read a book as coaches and carriages came and went from outside as the day turned to night and lamps lit the driveway to the gate. Eventually I made my way to the stairs to watch the guests enter, the gentlemen and ladies finely dressed in their evening best. I recognized the Netals, but they did not have their children with them, thankfully.

A maid brought up my dinner and I met her on the stair, following hungry and dug into the roast and carrots and potatoes.

“Is this what they will have downstairs too?” I asked her, wishing to feel included.

“Indeed, they are Miss.” She chuckled. I thanked her for the meal and she gave me a pretty box with golden lettering on the outside for dessert, from Grandfather, that read _Cadbury's._

Inside was an egg made of molded chocolate with pink marzipan flowers and green leaves. Though my stomach ached from all the sweets I had consumed in the day, I nibbled on it, remembering the egg I collected for Benjamin.

I checked the clay egg with care, making sure it had not cracked. _I could sneak it to him while they all dined._ I thought to myself taking survey of the clock. It was nearly eight, though perhaps I should wait a while longer. I looked over to my bedside and let out a snarl.

_Treacherous snake!_ My tulip was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, Rey gets confrontational.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some motivations of the characters are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I began this story I really struggled adding in dialogue, and with this chapter I struggled adding context and descriptions! AGH!

It seemed I was not the only rogue within this house. I paced my room as my anger grew impatiently to be let loose, fists curled in balls ready to strike.

“After all I have done for you? Thief!” I spoke to him, though he was not around to hear me. I imagined his chagrin as I offered him the surprise egg I had so carefully collected and kept safe for him. His face would redden and he would give me back the flowers he had stolen, apologizing for creeping into my room, I thought smugly.

“Keeping me up all night in terror, stealing my things, hurting poor Lord Han's portraits! What right have you?” I spat out, practicing my tirade.

I sat at my writing desk, penning a letter to Grandfather in thanks for the pretty candy egg and telling him of my Easter day. I omitted finding the key to the garden, and instead wrote of it in my journal. That joy was mine alone, though perhaps in time I could share it with Mr. Finn, if he promised not to tell. I waited a few hours more until the clock struck ten, quietly exiting my room, egg in hand. _Perhaps I shall crack it upon his head_ , I planned with devilish delight.

I crept along on bare feet in my nightdress and robe to Benjamin's own rooms, eager to berate him. I stopped at the stairs to listen to the party below, static and music serenading the guests through a phonograph. It was an odd feeling, familiar yet new in this house. I leaned over the banister to another soiree downstairs, the memories of my childhood playing in my mind. I enjoyed watching mother prepare for her dinner, and I would sit in her room and watch her prepare. She slipped into a pretty gown that matched her jewels before sitting before her vanity to apply powder and rouge. Sometimes I would be graced with a kiss to my lips, now tinted with red wax, before she would have Nani collect me and take me away. In the present, talk and laughter floated up to me from below, host and guest were quite distracted. I continued on my mission.

Once I reached the quarters that housed him, I listened at the door once more for signs of Mr. Mitaka but heard none within. It was likely he had the night for himself as well, like Rose, or perhaps he had been called down to the party. I pressed onward, carefully creeping on tiptoe to the room I had first met the poor invalid. There was a glow from under the door, the room lit by lamps, though it was quiet within.

I turned the doorknob slowly and slipped inside.

Upon a sofa he reclined, a thick tome in hand rest across his lap. The wheelchair he had sat in before was empty but near to him. A tartan blanket was drawn over his legs, but I could see that he was once again wearing his pajamas. His attention was drawn away from his book as he stared at me instead. A frown and scowl replaced the surprised look on his face when he heard the door click shut behind me.

“What are you doing here?” He narrowed his eyes at me before I saw them flicker up and down me disapproving as I stood there in my pajamas and robe. The heat deepened on my sun kissed face as I realized the impropriety of my intrusion.

“Well,” I began, tone most serious, ready to admonish him. “I had made to bring you this, but then I found my flowers stolen, _yet again_.” I strode forth and placed the pretty clay egg on a writing desk near him where it wobbled within his reach, waiting for his apology.

He closed the book he held and reached forward to place it on his desk silently next to quill and ink. Papers and pens littered the desk, covered in fanciful script from his own hand. The thick book he held was the Holy Bible. I tutted that he would even feign to read it, as sinful as he seemed.

“I see you are reminding yourself of the commandments. How appropriate.” I sniffed and looked at him expectantly. He gave pause, his jaw working oddly as he met my eyes before he side eyed the book he had just placed on the desk.

His scowl deepened before he snatched the egg up and crunched it in his fist, breaking it. He allowed the broken clay to fall to the floor, no care given to the mess he made. Inside a shiny tuppence.

“I am Mary Palp-” I began to introduce myself, watching as he held up the coin to shine in the flickering light. He laughed as if it were the most amusing thing he had ever saw.

“You think I need pennies?” He tossed the little coin on the table where it rolled and fell to the floor, along with my smile. I bristled once more, _this was not the reaction I had rehearsed_.

“That's all you have to say?!” I bobbed up and down on my feet, my anger inflating within me.

He chuckled. “Bishop Snoke was right about you. You're just a silly little girl.”

“I am not!” _I was a woman now_ , though I could not speak of such things to him. I was proud of the accomplishments and progress I had made since my arrival, after working so hard. I had seen the books Grandfather had provided for my education, they were of a religious nature and taught docility and domesticity. Madam had me read them, ensuring to fulfill her duty to Grandfather before she tossed them aside and set forth to teach me from a different syllabus.

“I am a Lord. Heir of fortune, land _and_ title. Whose coffers do you think those pennies come from?” He grabbed his bible once more as if to dismiss me.

I gave him my most loathsome glare, taking him in now. His hair was a mess of jet black and fell near his shoulders, and his eyes the deepest brown, black in the lamplight. He was tall and rather thin. Dark circles ringed under his eyes. His face was long and pale, as if he rarely saw the sun. No doubt he lived in darkness. I had thought him younger in the moonlight, though now I noted there were hints of whiskers on his upper lip. He was no man, but no little boy either. We were quite opposite.

“You're a man child!” I insulted him. He whipped his head to me with flared nostrils.

“Leave.” He growled, his voice deepening, before turning back to his useless bible.

“Not until you give me back what's mine!” I crossed my arms defiantly. He ignored me.

“I will wait.” I sat down in a chair in the corner of the room, staring at him. Still, he ignored me.

A round clock on his desk ticked in the silence. I yawned from my seat as he continued to read. The day had been long and I had woke early to travel, it was well past my bedtime, but I would not be moved. I blinked hard and looked to Lord Han's portrait, the tear on his chest stuck out dark and red by the lamplight against the rest of the painting, as if he suffered a true wound.

He turned a page. “Everything within this estate is mine, to do with as I please. You will wait all night, if you wish.” He simply said.

“Well I am not yours.” I said haughtily. I saw him peek at me from the corner of his eyes. “You are spoiled.” I judged him once more.

“Me? And what of you?” He turned his attention to me now. “You hardly even knew how to use silverware when you arrived. I heard you lived like a scavenger.” He seemed disgusted, and I felt my cheeks heat once more.

It was only partially true, I could admit. Nani always fed me and we ate with our hands. I could not remember a time I had a true meal with my parents, but I was always made to wash before and after when I dined with Nani and the others. _There was nothing savage about it, it was just our way._ Regardless of my ignorance, Maz taught me well and I was quick to know the difference between a salad fork from a fish fork.

“Why are you like this?” I asked him, hurt and embarrassed for my increasingly neglectful childhood.

He sighed, working his jaw once more, turning the page.

“Did Leia not tell you?” He responded finally, eyes staring without moving at the page he was on. My silence told him all he needed to know.

“Of course she didn't.” He whispered, bitter.

“Does she keep you here? Is that why you were not at the party?” I asked him with soft pity, prying. I could get my answers directly from the source if he wished to share. He paused a moment, still staring at his bible, still not reading, his eyes now shining in the lamplight.

“She is sad for you.” I offered kindly, staring at him. I could see his hurt and understood his loneliness even though his mother was downstairs. I knew that heartache well myself, if he cared to know me.

“What would you know of it?” He snapped, slamming his bible shut and thumping it on his desk. He pushed himself from his pillow to sit up more and face me in his anger. I flinched at his harsh words and quick movement, an angry shadow passing on his pale face so that I worried he might throw something at me again.

He took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself, licking at his dry lips as he blinked away the wetness in his eyes. He looked away, the chagrin I came here for now plain on his face, but I found no victory in it.

“She should be sad, it is her duty as a mother.” He began. I listened, my own tears stinging my eyes and threatening to expose my own feelings of abandonment. “She's always gone, her priorities are politics and social services. I do not need her.” He said, resistant to any and all pity.

“Where does she send you away to?” I asked, curious still.

He brought his hand up to his face, rubbing it and sighing before running it through his hair. “She does not _send me_ anywhere, though she did once before, to her regret. I wish now to join the Church.” He finished proudly.

“I'm a pagan.” I supplied with a small smile, feeling we were getting to know one another.

“Tsss!” He looked upon me, repugnant. “I will pray for you then, and ask Bishop Snoke to save your soul.”

I returned his scowl with one of my very own. “That black bishop is no friend of mine!”

“His Excellency is wise.” He was quick to anger. “He is a true believer and has been my one friend. He saved me from the asylum _she_ put me in.”

I gaped at him where I sat, remembering the private conversation I had heard between Maz and Lady Organa, and the speech given today during the garden party. I did not trust Bishop Snoke, no matter what kindness he may have shown to him. I swallowed, waiting for him to continue, but he slumped back to his pillow to recline and sat a moment in silence, no longer looking at me.

“She couldn't have known.” I said quietly, mostly to myself. I could not believe Lady Organa would abandon her son to such a place. I looked up to find him glaring at me. My eyes darted back down to my bare feet, afraid to meet his own dark eyes.

“Was it the Hospital for the Paralyzed and Epileptic?” I cautiously raised my eyes back to him. He closed his eyes in response, raising his hand once again, pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

“You are bringing on a migraine.” He groaned, but continued on to answer my question. “No, that is an actual hospital. I go there sometimes for therapy and-” He paused in thought, his jaw working again. “It was some other hell, I do not wish to speak of it.” He finished quickly, he sounded sad now.

I knew all too well the terrors of memories of the past, and respected his privacy for the moment. I waited, chewing on my cheek and wondering how to break the silence to speak of something happier.

I thought of the large key that was tucked away in my writing desk, but could not trust that he would keep my secret. He was like to want to keep it all for himself, and I decided then that it would be best not to mention it. _How would he even get to the garden?_ We could not sneak away with his condition, and it might anger him more to be denied such a pleasure if he did know of it. No doubt Lady Organa and the servants that tended to him would know of his absence and come looking.. No, it was mine alone, for now.

“I-Is Mr. Mitaka your... governor?” I asked stupidly.

He rolled his eyes at me. “I have no need of a governess, I am not a _child_.” I pursed my lips and tilted my face away from him, but keeping him in my sight to ensure he did not launch an object toward me, ignoring him until he continued.

“Mitaka is an Oxford man. He is preparing me for exams and works for _me.”_ He stuck his thumb indignantly into his chest.

“I thought you would join the Church?” I was confused.

“Leia insists I go to Oxford rather than seminary, if I must take up a career. Perhaps I'll do both.” He shrugged. I was growing impatient with his arrogance and tapped my fingers upon my crossed arms. A gentleman need not go to college, least of all seminary, and I thought it unusual someone as pompous as he would break such tradition.

I looked upon his legs stretched out along the sofa. He noticed my wandering eyes and began to shuffle the blankets to ensure he was well covered. His legs twitched underneath and I wondered on the extent of his injuries. Mr. Finn said he was a private young man, and I thought it could be likely he was embarrassed for his condition. _Perhaps a recluse._

“How dare you creep in here, leave at once!” He said through gritted teeth. My own nostrils flared at the utter hypocrisy of him. _So we are back to this?_

“You shouldn't be creeping in my room!” I smacked my fist on the arm of the chair, thoroughly done with this creature and the cruel mask he wore, with all his insults and slights. “I came here for an apology and to offer you a kindness, and you can't even be bothered! Some priest you'll make.”

He gaped at me, shocked, and wore his guilt plainly now. I sat in the chair, quite pleased this time with my head held high. A moment later I could not stifle a yawn and shiver. His fire had burned low and it grew cold in the spring night.

“You should go to bed, Miss Palpatine.” He said quietly as he turned away from me, resorting to formality. I bristled once more at being made aware of my childishness and my temper reared as he continued.

“Your flowers are on the windowsill. _Go_.” He pointed to a curtained window, a breeze from outside moved the curtains, fluttering. I stood and thought a moment, looking down my nose at him pretending to be occupied with his sacred book.

“Keep them. I can always go out and get more from the gardens.” I told him pointedly before striding out of his room and letting the door shut loudly, pleased with my own wit and slight on his capabilities.

When I reached the furthest door from his room I heard a pained snarl and such a clattering that it sounded as if the entire desk had been upended as it came crashing to the floor, its contents shattering and rumbling across the hardwood.

I jumped and ran back to my room as quickly as I dared and put myself to bed, heart racing as I heard someone approach my door. I curled into myself as I lay there facing away in the darkness. My breath stilled as I imagined he had come with his dagger to cut out my tongue or slit my throat and I whimpered into my pillow.

It opened slowly revealing shadows and the flicker of candlelight against the wall, followed by furtive whispers.

“ _She is sleeping.”_ It was Maz. I let out the breath I had been holding. They must all have heard the racket that I had caused and he had executed from the dining hall and sitting rooms below us. I wondered if anyone had checked to see if he was well, too, feeling guilty for the cruelty of my offense, even if he deserved it.

The next morning Rose was back, in a chipper mood than I. She hummed while she went about her work and I angrily ate the porridge and berries that she brought up to me for my breakfast. “Lady Organa wishes to see you in the parlor.” She finally said when her song was finished.

“Whatever for?” I turned to her quickly. I had planned a day exploring the locked garden when I could get away from watchful eyes. _Had I been found out?_

“I heard you have made a new friend.” She looked at me with raised eyebrows and I knew. I slunk down the steps into the sitting room where Lady Organa and Madam Kanata waited for me, before plopping myself onto a recliner and meeting their expectant gazes.

“I understand you have met Benjamin last night.” It was Lady Organa who broke our silence. I nodded quickly in agreement, though it was not true. I did not wish to tell her I had met him several days prior, nor that I believed him to be a wandering spirit that set off my nerves several times since their arrival a fortnight ago.

“Why did you not tell me you have a son?” I blurted out, unable to hold myself back before she could continue.

“Oh, I- Did your grandfather not tell you of him, dear?” Lady Organa seemed perplexed by my ignorance of him. I shook my head, that much was true. Grandfather never mentioned Lady Organa had a son or children of any kind.

Lady Organa took a deep breath and rose from her chair, striding to the parlor window to look out into the pretty morning. She seemed angry as she stood in front of the window with her hands clasped together behind her back.

“Of course not!” She breathed, her anger replaced with a bitterness. “Those who have no use to him hardly exist.” I stilled, wondering what use someone like Benjamin could possibly have to Grandfather.

“Leia!” Maz admonished her for insulting Grandfather to my face. I could not fault her though, as I knew it to be true. It was why I strove so hard to prove my usefulness to him. I sat in silence, unsure if I was in trouble or not.

“I'm sorry, Mary, that was uncalled for.” Lady Organa turned to me now, fresh tears in her eyes. She approached and sat next to me, taking my hand as she sniffled.

“Why is he hidden away?” I asked her.

“He's not hidden.” She sighed. “He's just angry he's home.” She must have seen the confused look on my face, as I did not understand why he should be angry to be _home_ , of all places to be.

“Ben is, _unwell_ , Rey. He does not wish to be the source of amusement or pity to those around him. We only try to respect his wishes and make him happy.” She tried to explain.

“We assumed you knew of him, dear, and when you did not ask after him, well.. I believed you were being polite so as not to pry or upset her Ladyship.” Madam Kanata chimed in now. I blinked at her.

“We are so used to keeping his condition private, and you were much distracted with your own grieving, Rey.” Maz kindly reminded me of my nervous fits and I looked down to my fingers now woven together. “It did not seem appropriate to burden you with such trouble.”

“W-will he die?” I worried perhaps another soul sought eternity in this house. I had made him so angry, surely if he did die his spirit would truly haunt me.

“Of course not, dear! He is no nearer to death as you or I.” Lady Organa reassured me of this, taking my hands in hers. I did not feel reassured though, as I felt as close to death as Persephone herself. She perhaps saw the skepticism on my face.

“Benjamin is.. as healthy as he can be, he just.. he has not been himself since the accident.” Lady Organa struggled to explain the intricacies of his condition to me. “He cannot walk, but the doctors feel that perhaps with time, he may regain some mobility.” Her eyes shone, full of hope.

“Does it hurt him?” I recalled his twitching legs and how they jerked in spasms uncontrollably and without purpose, and the mercurial nature of his moods. His dark eyes could be from lack of sleep due to his pain and tears, as mine had been when I found myself to be weighed down by the pain of my own sadness.

Lady Organa opened her mouth as if to answer but seemed to be robbed of words as tears rose to her eyes once more. She looked to Maz for help as a single tear escaped her.

“No pain that cannot be remedied with medicines and therapies, dear. You need not concern yourself. Master Solo has had the attention of the very best doctors in London and we are quite prepared to help him here until he should need return to them.” Maz explained with a small smile.

I nodded, and though I had more questions, I kept my mouth shut so they could not escape my lips. Lady Organa sat in sad silence, her eyes drawn to the woven rug on the floor, though I knew her thoughts were not. Once again I felt pity that he so adamantly refused, though he had proven he was no friend of mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time finding an adequate excuse on why Ben seemed to be kept a secret. Finally, I decided it was mostly his own doing, and the servants are so used to keeping their employers business private, and Rey is really a child still, so they just kept hush about it! I hope this seemed realistic considering the many months Rey has been living there. Ben went away the following morning of Rey's arrival and only came back with Leia recently, so he hasn't been around that long and there hasn't been much reason for anyone to speak of him. He definitely distracted Rey, but she's pretty quiet and guarded from her own trauma, so her silence was misinterpreted. 
> 
> Leia won't let him stay in his room forever though, but neither one wanted him to be a spectacle at the charity party. It was probably hard for him to watch the children running around playing, and he is quite bitter about his paralysis and subsequent hospitalization. More will be revealed on exactly what happened and the details of his injury. This story deviates some from the original SG, as Ben is truly injured and pained. As Leia said though, the doctors believe he is healing and gaining some mobility, so don't worry about him, he doesn't want your pity! ;P
> 
> Palps did not mention him and sent Rey to Leia as a big FU, and Leia knows this. She isn't mad at Rey though.


	9. Chapter 9

I lay on the floor of my room with my feet upon a chair, wishing that the rain outside would stop for once so that I might venture out to the garden or seek the company of Mr. Chewie and the horses. I had watched from the windows with my face pressed against in dismay as each ambling cloud brought more rain to keep me indoors. I grew impatient that I could not go out and held up the large key in the dark light of the day, allowing it to twirl and spin before me on the pretty ribbon I tied around its heart shaped end as I imagine the secrets it would unlock.

I'd been avoiding Ben and his chaotic company, staying within the calm safety of my own chambers or sometimes sitting in the study to pour over the many maps that Lord Han had left behind. I imagined myself in a dry country and no longer followed by rain. Maz set me back to my studies when she declared my holy holiday at an end and I dutifully completed the work and exercises she gave me but found myself antsy within the house, eager to go outside.

A light knock on the door before Rose entered, and I scrambled to my knees, tucking my key into my pocket. In the evening I would place it well hidden inside my desk, and in the morning I would take it out and inspect it before hiding it on my person. Sometimes, I wrapped it around my wrist and tucked it into my sleeve or placed a longer ribbon about my neck to let it dangle between my chemise and dress, its cool hardness pressed against me. I felt smug in my secrecy, that no other knew of the treasure I carried.

“Why are you laying about the floor?” Rose chuckled. “Your lunch is ready downstairs, Miss.”

I leaped to my feet and ran past her, rushing to the dining room where I would eat with Lady Organa and Maz. I skittered to a halt as I passed the threshold of the door to find new guests were present. Mr. Mitaka and Benjamin sat at the table as well. Rose followed close behind now, ushering me forward and to my chair when I stood there in silence, surprised to see him out of his own rooms.

He was well dressed now in pants and buttoned shirt, his hair combed tightly so that his ears stuck out unusually on each side of his head. He also wore a tight scowl on his face as he stared at the food before him, fists clenching the armed chair he was provided. The rest of the dining chairs did not have arms to grasp. Had I not known his condition I might think he were perfectly fine, save for his sickly countenance. His own wheelchair sat nearby, too low to sit at the dining table to eat. He did not look to acknowledge me as I took my seat and focused his glaring at his lunch with pursed lips.

I sat across from him and began to quickly help myself to the chicken curry the cook had provided, my mouth watering at the familiar aroma.

“We must pray first!” He interrupted. I paused, mouth gaping, ready to receive the delicious food dripping from my spoon. I sat it down with a clank on my stew plate as the others bowed their heads, their food remaining untouched before them.

I bowed my head reluctantly while I clasped my hands together, giving one last longing look at the tender chicken swimming in vegetable and curry sauce, and sighed. I had yet to be made to pray before my meals in this house, the last prayer I uttered given at Easter. _If this was to be our new routine, I should sooner take my meals in my chambers, alone._

Benjamin cleared his throat to lead us. “Bless, O Father, Thy gifts to our use and us to Thy service; for Christ's sake. Amen.”

“Amen.” We chorused as I snatched my spoon and dug in. I looked up to meet Benjamin's eyes with wicked delight at the affront on his face as the curry sauce smeared down my chin, wishing to make true on his insults to my perceived savage upbringing.

“Mary, use your napkin.” Madam chastised me. I made a show of dabbing it delicately on my lips before taking another large bite.

We all sat in silence for a few moments as we ate, though Benjamin picked quietly at his meal, taking a small sip of sauce and nibble of a potato before drinking in gulps from his glass of water. Soon the adults began to speak of business of the estate, budgets and expected harvests in the fields. One of the kitchen maids was leaving to return to family, and cook requested a new hire. There was to be a new postmaster in town by the year's end. I happily ate my meal, stealing peeks at Ben from across the table. I noticed the hairs on his lip were now shaven, and he looked younger and more sickly than he did before in the bright daylight. His dark brown eyes matched his mother's.

“Are you excited for May Day, darling?” Lady Organa finally asked me. I perked up, chewing quickly to swallow my mouth full and provide answer to her, licking my lips. May Day was another holiday yet to be enjoyed. It was the beginning of a new season for the young women of society to come out, and there would be flower decorations and dance and music. I could not wait and Rose promised that Mr. Finn would accompany us into town to take part.

Benjamin sat back quickly from his plate against the back of his chair, stirring the food with his own spoon. His expression soured as he moved his jaw without chewing. Every so often, Mr. Mitaka eyed him as he worked on his own plate. Though Mitaka was a skinny man as well, he seemed to have a better appetite and helped himself to another helping of our lunch.

“Rose says there will be a flower festival in the village and we will go!” I answered her, my excitement buzzing. _Will Benjamin come along?_

“I trust you and Rose will have a wonderful time, dear.” Lady Organa smiled, nodding.

“Will you not go?” I asked, thinking it would be a delight to have the company of her Ladyship there. I heard a small huff from across the table to find Benjamin staring angrily at me.

Lady Organa gave a quick look to Benjamin before answering, an apologetic smile on her lips. “I'm afraid I must return to London, dear. I have made promises to friends, the young ladies are due out and there is always business to attend. My holiday is at an end.”

The table rattled with such a sudden quaking, that I nearly dropped my own spoon as I startled. The glasses and dinnerware chimed with sudden outburst, the drink within our glasses swaying as the table settled.

“Then I should return to Bath!” Benjamin had his fist upon the tablecloth as he huffed, his attention now drawn to Lady Organa.

“You will stay here.” Lady Organa responded to him with a new authority.

“If you will go, I will go.” He raised his chin, as if his decision was final.

“Have some more, Master Solo. You have hardly touched your food.” Mr. Mitaka spooned some more food onto his plate as Benjamin watched in outrage, hackles raised. Mitaka seemed rather unperturbed by Benjamin's moods as I watched in shock as his face grew red with anger.

“I am not hungry.” He spat back at him, throwing his napkin from his lap to the table.

“You have hardly eaten since our return, dear. Please eat a little.” Lady Organa gently urged him, caution in her words.

“I am _not_ hungry. Stop changing the subject.” Benjamin grit his jaw tightly together now, his fists clenched the sides of his chair once more.

“I thought we could arrange for you to go to town with Rose and Rey for May Day, my dear boy. It would be a lovely time.” Maz did her best to calm him. He looked up to meet my eyes, but I blinked nonplussed at his outburst. _Surely he would ruin whatever joy I might find in it?_

“I would not deign to attend a barnyard ball.” He curled his lip at me. I scrunched my nose at his snobbery and gave him a glare. Madam Kanata tutted disapprovingly at his rudeness, earning her an approving smirk from myself.

“Mitaka, my chair. I will return to my room.” Benjamin commanded, crossing his arms before him. Mr. Mitaka looked to Lady Organa who gave a small shake of her head, his request denied.

“You have not finished your lunch, Master Solo.” Mr. Mitaka reminded him of the full plate set before him.

“I wish to be excused.” He seethed, now staring at the lunch in front him with murderous intent. I wondered not if but when he would send it flying. He was denied once more as Lady Organa hardened her jaw and took another bite of her own meal. The others quietly following her example.

“You _cannot_ keep me here!” He finally shouted at his mother, letting loose his rage, fists pounding the table once more to rattle it.

I spooned another mouthful of food as I watched with interest now, reflecting on my own angry outbursts when I had arrived at Grandfather's estate. My heart quickened with sudden dread, _Will he be struck for his temper?_ I looked to Maz quickly, seeking security in her kind eyes, worried I might bear witness once more to harsh punishments, but finding her instead occupied with the argument ahead, disapproval written on her face.

“You intend to leave me here while you go off to London without a care! I will not _stay_. I will write to Bishop Snoke and have him send for me if you refuse.” He practically bobbed in his seat with anger as he gripped the table before him, the cloth skewing on the surface and tugging my plate away.

“That bishop has no right to you, nor will I give him leave to take you from here!” Lady Organa shouted back.

“You have no right to me either! You are no mother!” He said quickly. Lady Organa sucked in a breath, turning away from him and looking at her napkin clutched in her hands. I took a gulp of air and pitied her to have to endure such harsh criticism from her monstrous son.

“Benjamin.” Mr. Mitaka grasped his shoulder, easing him away from the table and back to recline in his chair. He stared a moment at his mother as his eyes began to wet. Maz sipped at her teacup with hardened jaw, choosing to stay out of it.

“I will return to Bath or I shall not touch another morsel of food.” He threatened, fully stubborn in his way.

“Then you will starve.” I quipped, quickly drawing my lips inward between my teeth. I had not meant to draw his ire, yet he snarled at me anyway.

“I cannot spend my summer with this child!” He glowered at me now. My anger threatened to bubble over and join him in his, as I thought I would not wish to spend my summer with him anyway. _He is horrid._

“Then I will send for you in London.” Lady Organa quietly acquiesced as she fiddled with the napkin on her lap, her own dark eyes shining to match his.

He sneered, a bitter laugh escaping him. “To be your poster child of charitable reputation? I think not.” He straightened up in his chair, smug, and I knew he was winning this battle.

“You will come with me to London! Now, eat.” Lady Organa warned. Benjamin stared at her and his eye twitched in rage.

Quickly he swiped the plate from the table and sent it skittering across the floor, the porcelain cracking apart and curry sinking into the carpet, his lunch no more. I bit my lower lip and stole a glance at him fuming in his chair, no longer looking at anyone but instead staring at the tablecloth in front of him, sans plate.

Lady Organa sat in silence and continued to eat, ignoring the gross etiquette of her son. “If you are finished, Mitaka.” She said quietly after a moment.

“Of course, My Lady.” Mr. Mitaka stood from his own seat, wiping his mouth on his napkin before placing it before him and tucking in his chair, his meal nearly finished.

I thought back to what Benjamin had said of his employment, _He works for Lady Organa, not you,_ I wished to point out. I thought it best to keep to myself, lest he toss his glass my way. Mitaka quietly grabbed the wheelchair and brought it next to him before tugging lightly on the back of the dining chair. Benjamin helped to push himself away from the dining table, refusing to acknowledge any of us further.

I stared as he shuffled himself to the chair's edge before grasping the arms of the wheelchair and turning himself about to sit in it. Mitaka held tight to the back, but Benjamin quickly pushed his hands away, snapping at him. “I can get it myself!” He spoke in hushed words, quickly rolling himself back from the table and turning his chair to make towards the door.

_How does he get upstairs?_ I wondered to myself, staring and turning my head as he quickly rolled out of the dining room and into the hall.

“Shall I see to him, My Lady?” Mitaka asked Lady Organa, standing before us.

She shook her head, “Leave him be to nurse his pride.” Mr. Mitaka took his seat once more and continued to clear his plate. Lady Organa rang a bell for a maid, apologizing for the mess as one came in and set to work picking up the pieces of porcelain and bits of food. The rug would need to be removed and cleaned, if it could be helped. A low whirring drew my attention as I realized he had used the servant's lift to make his way upstairs. I wondered how long he would sequester himself this time.

I was pulled from sleep when the telltale howl of misery and pain reached my door, and I knew what beast raged beyond. When another pitiful howl carried through the hall, I sat up quickly in my bed and felt a shiver run through my spine as I realized that my fear from earlier in the day had come to fruition.

I quickly ran to my door to yank it open, peeking out into the silent hall, waiting for another cry to be called out. When I heard it I jumped, running without my robe from my room to see what punishment must be endured by Benjamin for the misbehavior of this afternoon. He sounded angry and pained, his howls full of sorrow, and to think him punished brought tears to my eyes.

_How could they do such harm to him, when he is already so broken?_ I hurried along the darkened halls, my curiosity overriding my cowardice. I rushed once more to his rooms, pausing to spy around corners to ensure I would not be caught and made to withstand my own punishment. My heart quickened as my chin quivered in trepidation. I shivered, from anxiety or chill I was unsure, but still I carried on.

Not once had I been struck since arriving here, no hand was raised to me for all my fits and angry words. My outbursts were met with hugs and calm assurances, and my heart ached at the thought of Lady Organa or Madam Kanata doling out such injustice to him, even if he was outrageous in his behavior. When I arrived to the main hall where he stay, I could hear the broken sobs of his words.

“ _Please_.. it hurts.” He begged them. I stood still in the hallway, frozen in fear, the light under the door illuminating just enough to see my bare feet and the oriental carpet runner.

“No! NO!” I heard him shout soon again, another wail escaping his lips, causing me to take a step back from the torture chamber. His shouts came from a different room in the hall, the light within flickering under the door as those within moved as black shadows. I imagined once more the malign spirits that might haunt this manor, and wondered if they fed on the turbulent violence within.

I held my hand tight to my mouth to stop my own audible cry as tears swelled from my eyes, leaking over to run down my cheeks in heavy streams and took a step back. The door opened suddenly, revealing me in the light. It was Mr. Mitaka and let loose a soft 'oh!' when he saw me standing there, tears and snot streaming down my face as I sobbed and quaked. Perhaps I looked a ghost too, standing in my white nightgown with my hair hanging down around me.

With him he carried a basin with towels. He set it down quickly on the floor next to the door before rushing forward to take me by the shoulders, turning me about and walking me through the darkness of the halls. I quickly looked behind to the door ajar, the light of the room now flooding the hallway where I once stood as Mr. Mitaka led me gently away.

“ _Mother.. mother.._ ” I could hear Benjamin within, his voice weak now, a splashing of water sounded out. Quick hushes soon followed, and I knew Lady Organa was within as well as she answered.

“Miss Mary, please come away.” Mr. Mitaka said quietly as he led me through the hallway doors with firm hands, steering me back to my bedroom.

I looked up to him, my tears falling without care and soft sobs escaping me as we neared my room. “W-why are they punishing him?” I could not understand what abuse they wrought on such a pitiable creature.

Mitaka paused outside my door, bending down on his knee before me, wiping at my face and nose with his own kerchief, though more tears soon replaced those he removed as I continued. He sighed, looking at me as he grasped for the words to explain.

“It is not.. a punishment. It is part of his therapy.” He assured me, squeezing my arms tight.

“B-but they're h-hurting him.” I continued my plea.

“It is only an ice bath, for his spine. It will help ease his muscles after his exercise. It only hurts a moment, before it helps.” I leaned onto his shoulder and cried, and he allowed me to for a moment until he stood, opening my door and steering me back to bed.

“Rest well, Miss Rey.” He had tucked me into my bed in the dark room before he left, his footsteps quickly fading as he moved to carry on whatever task he was complicit in as I continued to cry in the dark.

Memories of pained cries, my own and others, surfaced as I lay there. Reminders of my loneliness and abandonment clawing to drag me down into the black well of despair I had so carefully been rising from all these months. Mother and Father had never hit me, nor instructed the servants to, but Grandfather did not believe in sparing the rod, as he said. I could not rest, after what I had heard, and as the clock chimed midnight downstairs I slid from my bed to find him. _I must see the truth for myself_.

Carefully, in the quiet slumber of the grand house, I slid once more into his room. The low embers of a fire lit it dully, but I found him laying upon his bed on his stomach. His bare feet stuck out from the bottom of the thin blanket that covered him, and he appeared to have no shirt. I had not yet seen the naked body of the other sex, and noted the sharp edges of his shoulder blades and ribs, his spine a jagged ridge running down the length of his back. I wondered quickly if he were naked, but did not dwell on such impropriety. I had come to ensure he was not mistreated. He did not move, but his soft sniffles alerted me to his consciousness.

“Ben.” I whispered to him before I gulped, carefully extending my hand to rest upon his naked shoulder, cold to the touch. It was like coming near a wounded animal, and my heart raced, so afraid I was of the possibility of his outburst and taking blame that he might lash out. He rose carefully to his elbows, the sinews of his arms tightening and moving as the glow of the embers illuminated us. He was hunched low as he slowly turned his head to find me standing there beside him.

“Why are you here?” He whispered, his own face wet with tears. There was no anger or bitterness to him now, and I saw for a moment a gentleness that I had not thought him capable of expressing.

“I- I heard-” I could not stop the tears that fell once more, so shaken was I in my emotions and the hours I had just spent in isolated memory of my own past.

He turned some as he watched me scramble onto the bed to sit next to him with worry written on my face. Once more I took in the concave shapes of his collar bones and washboard ribs, sticking out from his sunken stomach as he flipped himself to his side. He was quite emaciated, and I knew now why his caretakers had been so insistent that he eat _._ I had grown thin at Grandfather's as well, but had since recovered, and I wondered whether it were physical pain or mental anguish that made him suffer a loss of appetite so acutely.

“Did they hurt you?” I finally expressed my worry for him. He shook his head but did not say more as he stared across his room.

“Can you help me?” He whispered, setting his hand atop mine as it rested between us. Even his palms felt frozen.

I nodded ardently, “Of course.”

“There,” He pointed to a small shelf along the wall. “in the box upon the shelf, there is a vial.” I hopped from my perch on the side of the bed and went to it, looking back so that he might guide me in finding what he requested.

“To your right, the bottom drawer.” He directed in hushed words, nodding as I took the small glass bottle tucked within the tiny compartment. “Bring it to me.” He stretched his slender arm out with his hand splayed out, palm up, anticipating whatever was held within.

I stepped to him once more and gave him that which he begged for, looking at the small vial containing a liquid substance as I handed it over to him. I imagined it to be an opium or morphine of some kind, no stranger to the use of laudanum and opium myself to quell my pain and help me sleep. Madam had prescribed them to me when I had my fits or complained of the painful cramps in my stomach that preceded my menstruation, but sometimes she denied me. _This must be his own medicine for his pain._

“Help me.” He urged, hand fisted tight around the little bottle, concealing it while the other grasped my forearm as leverage. I linked my arm in his to help him upright himself, his legs dragging along the length of the bed as he rose, toes twitching with his movement.

“Mitaka said you had therapy?” I was eager to know what had happened and whether he had spoken true when he placed me back into my room.

Quickly and without answering me, Benjamin unplugged the stopper before gulping the contents within eagerly, the medicine vanishing from the small vial. He shook it above his tongue, impatient to receive every last drop. I stood by his side silently as I watched. He tossed the vial from his side, practically hissing, and it clattered into a dark corner of the room as he panted heavily, _perhaps it was not enough_.

“Shall I ask for more-” I looked to the door, thinking perhaps I should find Madam Kanata or Mitaka, or even Lady Organa, to ask them for more pain reliever for him.

“No!” He grabbed my wrist tightly, pulling me closer. “No.” He calmed, his breathing growing shallow. He fell back to his pillows with a sigh, making me step forward as he did not release me.

“This'nough.” His eyes gleamed and flickered shut before opening again heavy, and he turned his head slightly upon his pillow to take me in, the slightest of sad smiles lifting a corner of his mouth.

“Are you well now?” I whispered, but he only breathed a heavy sigh once more, his chest rising and falling slowly, the smile on his lips twitching and his legs seemed to stir as well. I looked down upon him to see a dark patch of hair trailing his belly button and turned my head quickly away blushing. “Perhaps.. I should leave you to rest.”

He squeezed my wrist, still holding tightly to it as he nodded his head in agreement. “Thank you.” He finished weakly before his hand slipped from my wrist. Quietly I left him to suffer, wondering if we could perhaps be friends after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The garden will come into play eventually! :P


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey opens a door.

I raced down the beaten trail that led to hidden garden door, an afternoon given freely to me as the sun came out behind the thick gray clouds that now carried on to someplace else. The key thumped against my own chest in rhythm to my running. I arrived breathless in front of the ivy covered door and began tearing away some of the foliage. It was well hidden in the alcove of the stone wall that barricaded the tomb within.

I tugged at the ribbon I had tied around my neck to bring the key out, tracing my thumb over the twirled heart end and feeling in detail the rough iron it was wrought from, worn from the weather.

Quickly, I looked over my shoulder behind me to scout if I had been followed, but it seemed I was alone and my secret was still safe. I crouched on my knees to peek into the key hole with quickening breath as the excitement to unlock the door left me shaking. The garden was still and quiet, the Lady Naberrie rested peacefully atop her tomb.

Taking a gulping breath, I plunged the key into the lock, closing my eyes tight as I twisted the rounded end of the key. It would not give! I breathed out, my shoulders dropping as I inspected the unyielding lock, the thrill of the moment passed. I removed the key and placed it within the lock again, trying once more. Still, the key barely moved. I bit on my cheek and huffed, worrying that this perhaps was not the key to the garden. I resolved to try again.

I applied more pressure and wiggled the key violently, but alas, “Stupid lock!” I cursed it and kicked the door with the edge of my muddy boot. I thought a moment of my predicament, leaning on the heavy wood and leaving the key within its chamber. The vines around the wall hung over me and tangled into my hair, I slapped them aside to step away from the guarded wall, peevish.

_I shall need more leverage, perhaps._ I checked the ground for a sturdy stick, the garden was well within the edge of the wood. I found one quickly, thin enough to slip inside the twisted heart at the end of the key but thick enough to provide some strength to turn the lock, likely rusted over with time and disuse.

Applying pressure to the stick I twisted with all my might, gritting my teeth in effort and grunting. As the lock gave way to the pressure the stick finally snapped. A rusted shriek and loud click followed as the lock turned and the key lay flat in its position, the pretty ribbon swaying in the soft breeze. The door seemed to pop open as if ready to receive me and goose prickles ran across my arms as I thought of the spirit likely within. I took a step back before I grasped my hand around the large ring that served as door handle. _Or was it perhaps a knocker to announce a visitor?_

“May I enter?” I asked into the crack between the door and frame before I wrapped another fist around and tugged upon it with both hands, an excited yip escaping my lips.

The door scraped along the dirt and stone bottom, adding large marks upon the smooth stone that served as pathway into the garden, scratches already there from previous use. The hinges groaned and wood panels of the door vibrated as I tugged to open it enough to allow me entry. I stuck my head within, not willing yet to step inside the crypt and disturb its peace. I could not help the smile that crossed my face in my excitement as I pulled the key from the door and put it once again around my neck. It dangled in front of me, marking me as new keeper of this dead place.

There was no answer to my question, but I rushed in anyway and tugged the ring once more to get the door to close. I stilled a moment, thinking of my fitful dream of being locked inside and chose to leave the door ajar enough to ensure I could not be locked within. I glanced once more behind me to the stone coffin that rest in the middle of the still pond, letting out a relieved sigh. There was no empty space for me to rest for eternity.

I turned to inspect my surroundings, standing still in front of the door. A small stone path led from the door and split in two directions to wrap around the pond on each side before disappearing into dirt and grass with no persons to tend to it, likely washed over from the rain. I stepped carefully, crunching dead fallen leaves underfoot from the surrounding trees outside of the walls and followed the trail to my left. The trees beyond towered over the stone walls of the garden, an imposing feature. I squinted up into the bright sky, it being the only openness within and took a deep breath, shaking the claustrophobic fear that began to tighten around me.

I had spotted a rabbit when I first looked within, so there must be a stone loose somewhere within the wall, but now there was a stillness here. I seemed to be the only living being within. I bit at the skin of my lip, taking in the rest of the garden. Large weeds almost as tall as me stretched up around the garden walls. Pond reeds and cattails traced wildly around the wet walls of the water's edge, insects buzzing and fluttering around them. I toed around the pond carefully watching the sleeping lady to ensure she did not rise and taking care to keep a safe distance from its edge.

Some wildflowers and flowered weeds sprang forth in the wildness of the garden, white and blue and lilac. Daffodils and daisies competed for earth to root and flower. In the absence of a caretaker, it seemed the flowers relied on the wind and the little creatures of nature to spread them out, and they had little arrangement within the garden, sprouting where they pleased. I paused before one section of the wall. It had a patterned mural of stones in various size and color, arranged in a pleasing and calming circle, drawing the eye inward to the meditative center.

The wall with the rose bushes was plagued with sprawling thorn vines that clawed and burrowed their way into the stone, broken and cracked, while small buds of roses flowered poorly on them in their neglect. Some of their petals lay around the sprawling bushes, wilted and decaying. I picked a rose from the wall, pricking my finger as I did, sucking the iron blood from the tip as it came out. I picked the rest of the thorns from the stem so that I might tuck it into my hair above my ear.

If I wished to care for this garden I would need gloves and tools. Perhaps clippers and spade. Earth may need to be moved and fertilizer to enhance the flowering of the poor rose bushes. I had watched Mr. Finn use a wheelbarrow to move the dirt and fertilizer he used to tend to the terrace gardens. I sighed, tapping a finger to my chin, _To have these things I might have to share with him my secret._ That was a predicament.

The only true tree within the garden was the lonely willow, its leaves now hanging bright and low on its spindly vines, gently caressing the water below as they fluttered in the low wind of the afternoon. I gathered some flowers and vines and sat beneath it, thinking of all the wonderful things I might do here, braiding the stems of wildflowers into the string of leafy vines to make a flower crown.

_I could wear this for May Day!_ All the girls in the village would be adorned with beautiful flowers, and we would then dance around the may pole with pretty colored cloths to intertwine and overlap them. I smiled at the thought, daydreaming of the day I would have with Rose and Mr. Finn as I worked.

“Oh!” There was a splash behind me and I gasped, twisting around quickly to look for the source of the sound. _The spirit of the Lady Naberrie has stirred!_

I dropped my flowers into my lap and stilled now, clutching at the grass below me as I stared at the pond with wide eyes. A ripple of water moved near the polished stone of her monument and I breathed heavy through my nose as I began to suspect she may not have granted me leave to enter her domain. I imagined her stepping from her sarcophagus into the water to pull me down.

My eyes darted around the garden, flickering to each corner, ensuring no spirit had manifest itself within these walls. The shadows of the tall weeds played tricks on me in the afternoon light. A rustling in a bush startled me to my feet, my flowers dropping to the ground as I whimpered in fear. I returned my attention once more at the still monument, the pond's blackened surface now as still as stone itself. My heart began to race and the goose prickles returned to me, my hairs standing on end.

A large breeze blew overhead, the menacing trees surrounding the walls shivered and swayed with it, a sudden burst of birdsong and flock of dark ravens fleeing from the treetops with a warning cacophony. The willow stirred as well, suddenly whispering of my trespass. I leaped forward with a screech as I felt a soft caress on the back of my neck, the long vines of the willow tried to ensnare me and trap me here.

_This garden shall be your own tomb!_ I had dreamed of it! The living had called to me from beyond the dilapidated walls. I raced away from the willow, away from the pond, away from the garden delight!

My crown of flowers forgotten and trampled in the soft grass, I threw myself against the wood door to open it with a grunt, slipping out and slapping my hands upon the other side with all my might to shut it tight. My hands trembled and I whimpered as I fumbled with the key to lock it once more. My fear must have aided my strength as the key turned quickly and the door lock clicked with a reassuring sound.

I leaned against the door, sliding down to catch my breath. Turning I peered once more through the key hole, expecting to see the phantasm of a beautiful and lonely woman within. I saw none save for the shadows of the day taunting me. I backed away and hurried along the path that brought me here, the key hidden once more within my gray mourning dress. I chewed my cheek with worry as I made my way to the large terrace on the back of the house and raced up the stone steps.

“Where were you?” A familiar voice gave me pause and brought me from my reverie. Ben was sitting outside in his chair, so distraught was I in my fleeing that I had not noticed him as I approached the house.

I gaped at him, unsure how to answer, shivering still from my fright. He surveyed me with the frown he always wore. In the light of day he was indeed pale as a ghost. He was dressed yet again, this time in jacket and blazer and had a knitted cap covering his hair, ears tucked into it. A matching scarf was wrapped around his neck. The tartan blanket from his room was tucked around his legs on his chair. He had his bible with him once more. I did not think the afternoon that cold and had ventured out without my coat, running from Rose as she called after me for forgetting it.

“In the stables.” I lied.

“Mr. Finn just came from there. He said you were not there.” His scowled deepening as he caught me in my lie.

“Must have just missed him.” I shrugged and turned as if to make my way back inside.

“Your dress is filthy.” He pointed out as his eyes trailed down me disapproving.

I looked down. Indeed, some dirt and grass marks covered the light gray gown and frock I wore, likely from sitting in the mud and dewy grass after days of rain. My finger was streaked with blood and I pressed the stinging puncture wound with my thumb, grimacing at the searing. Twigs and wisps of dead grass stuck to me as well. I raised my head, offering a plausible excuse. “I was playing.”

“Where did you get that flower?” He pointed to the rose I had stuck in my hair by my left ear. I snatched it, forgetting in my plight it was there and inspected it in my hand. It was my only souvenir from the dreaded garden. Some of the petals fell from its delicate frame into my palm.

“I picked it from a wild bush on the grounds.” I pointed in the opposite direction of my secret garden. “I'm going to make a crown for May Day.”

“Hmm.” He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously, not yet fooled. No doubt he was aware of the garden as resident and heir of this estate, but I had shared my finding of the key with none, so there was no reason he should assume I had access.

“What are you doing out here?” I thought to change the subject, though he seemed unsatisfied.

“Mitaka thought the air would do me well.” He raised himself in his chair, taking a deep breath of country air. It had been many days since I had aided him, and though he sometimes came out for meals, taciturn and cantankerous, I had not yet seen him outside. He was still a creature of the night.

I smiled at him, happy my ruse was working. “It is nice that the rain has ended. Will you stay out here long?”

“No!” He replied curtly, his voice roughened with anger. “The light hurts my eyes, it brings on headaches. I wish to be inside.” He slumped again in his chair, glaring at the light of the sun accusingly of harm.

I stood a moment in silence, chewing the skin of my lip and clutching the little rose in my hand as I looked in the direction of the garden with worry. _Perhaps the spirit would be angry I had taken it?_ Benjamin cleared his throat, interrupting my thoughts.

“You know, the other night. You haven't said anything? To anyone?” He went on, working his jaw awkwardly as he so often did. I shook my head, frowning.

“Are you recovered?” I asked. He nodded but scowled regardless.

“Will you come with us to the May Day festival? I asked Rose about the barn, and she said there wasn't one.” I made to reassure him that such fun would not be beneath him. I had worried that the dances may take place within a barn as he had accused, but Rose had laughed and told me that all the fun was to be had outside, and in the night there would be a bonfire.

He stared at me a moment curiously, “Yes, I know. I'm going to London, with Leia.” It was strange, he did not afford her the title of Mother here, yet I had heard him utter it and call out for her in the midst of his misery.

“Oh..” I shifted a moment on my feet before moving to the low wall of the terrace to sit before him. _If he could not attend, he could perhaps still join our fun._ “Well, perhaps you can join us in making wreaths and bundles of flowers to place in the baskets.” His nostrils flared at me instead as once again his mood shifted.

“You know, it is an unholy festival. The may pole was used by the pagans to call upon demonic forces and can corrupt the hearts of the children of God. You should not participate and seek the truth of Christ instead.” He held the bible out to me earnestly, preaching, expecting me to take it.

I turned my nose up at him and his good book. “There are many Gods, and I seek all of their truths. Even from your own God.” I reassured him as he hissed. It was a truth, I needed not the divinity of one savior. I did not mind believing the truths of Christianity and all the other religions I had read of in the library.

“You are misguided.” He barked. “His Excellency warns of the dangers of wayward thought and if you do not open your heart to Christ you will not find eternal salvation but the many fires of Hell!”

“I have no fear of Hell.” I replied indifferent, hopping from my seat on the wall and sauntering towards him. _The world of the living with all its mingling spirits was far more terrifying._

I paused beside him, leaning down close to look him in the eye. They were black in the night, but now they brightened in the daylight like the richest earth. He met my gaze, his thick eyebrows knotted in fury as I gave him a smug smile.

“I shall be reincarnated as a flower.” I placed the poor flower on the arm of his chair, giving it to him freely. _He was like to steal it from my bedside, anyhow._

He looked down at it in surprise, its petals shedding from it pitifully. It had lost so many while clasped in my palm, it was now mostly stem and leaf, broken and damaged. I was happy to be rid of it for fear it may carry the curse of a spirit with it. He picked it up slowly, inspecting it as I made my way inside the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Ben will do with that poor little rose? 😊🥀
> 
> I planned on having the May Day festival with this chapter but it got longer than I thought and I like where this gets left off. As you know, Ben will be leaving, and I will be using these kinds of opportunities to pass time and age everyone up a bit as the story progresses. The garden will return and does play an important role in the story. There will just be several comings and goings as things develop. Absence makes the heart grow fonder!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey enjoys her girlhood for a moment before her past and future catch up to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long, I've been distracted with other things and I've had this drafted for a while but am not super pleased with it so keep messing with it, but I'm eager to move on so I'm just going to post it to be done with it!

As the day of the May Day festival arrived, so excited was I that I leaped from my bed and threw on my robe and slippers before Rose had a chance to wake me. It was said that washing your face in the morning dew would bring beauty for the year to come, so I eagerly ran down the stairs and into the misty dawn. The sun had only just risen, the dawn leaving a gift of dew for all the maidens across England. I raced outside into it, fanning as much mist as I could to kiss my face before dipping down to run my open palms over the soft, wet grass.

I gently dabbed at my cheeks and forehead with wetted fingers, unsure how much dew I would need to beautify myself. I changed tactics, shaking leaves of small bushes to collect pools into my cupped hands, thus vigorously scrubbing my face, ensuring no inch of skin would escape the treatment. I had read that long ago a queen took her maids to bathe in the dew, but Rose had only laughed at me when I suggested we bathe in it together. She would much prefer the comforts of a warm bath in the house.

Instead of stripping off my nightgown, I satisfied myself with covering as much skin as I could. I ran about the grounds to collect it and apply to my arms and legs, until Rose finally called me in as the gray morning brightened to the rising sun and the dew began to evaporate. She led me back to my room, breakfast waiting. I attacked it with gusto, not wishing to dally, too eager to begin the day.

When I finished we began dressing, my drawers and short chemise first, followed by a light petticoat for the warm spring and my usual black stockings. Rose had brought out the lilac Easter dress I had worn to church with the black ribbons, a bit more festive for the occasion and less dull than my regular gray mourning dress. In just a few months I would be released from wearing it forever, and another year older by August. The seamstress in the tailor's shop promised I'd have many pretty dresses with the reasonable allowance Grandfather had been providing to me.

Rose helped me shift into the pale lilac dress before guiding me to the vanity to brush my hair. She curled the ends with a heated iron and tied half of it up in a pretty purple bow. I watched her in quiet reflection, and smiled at her warmly when she finished, inspecting myself in the mirror to see if the dew had begun to work its magic. My skin was tanned from my time spent outside and the freckles on my face seemed to multiply, darkening. _Was I still pretty?_ I had high cheekbones and a bow shaped kiss, my chestnut hair was shining and now curled around my shoulders, and my eyes were a vibrant green, no doubt the dew brightened my countenance.

The parade would be led by the May Queen, an embodiment of the goddess Flora herself, said to be the prettiest girl in the town and crowned in flowers. I wanted nothing more than to be declared the May Queen. _Would I be pretty enough?_ Mother was said to be beautiful, and Grandfather said I looked like her. The May Queen was older, practically a woman, and I was still dressed as a child. I would be thirteen in August as well, so perhaps next year? I straightened in my seat.

“Can I wear a rouge?” I asked Rose hopefully, since I was feeling older. Rose quirked an eyebrow at me, my request denied.

“Only a little?” I begged. Rose had her own powder and rouge, I saw her wearing it sometimes when we took our walks with Mr. Finn. _She was his paramour,_ I mused, finding the romance of it a true delight. _What flowers had he left at her door? Had she caught him and made to kiss him?_

“You can pinch your cheeks until they're a pretty pink. It's what I did as a girl.” Rose hardly gave into my demands as Nani once did before, she valued her position and wished to stay in Madam's good grace.

I gave my cheeks several hard pinches, watching the blood bloom across them. Satisfied, I went to the downstairs parlor to check on the floral decorations we had made the previous day. We would hang the wreaths and garlands upon the door of the ancient house and I had a flower ringlet to wear on my head. Ensuring our décor was well intact, I snatched a pile of bundled flowers from the table and made my way outdoors once again.

I had made the bouquets to give to Mr. Finn and Mr. Chewie. I ran to the gatehouse first which housed Mr. Finn, quietly tying my bundle of lavender and daisy to his door knob, ready to give it a pounding knock so that he might come to answer. Before I could bang my fist upon his door, it swung open. I jumped back off his steps and made to run away, laughing.

“Oi! A fairy at my door?” He called after me. I ducked behind one of the nearby trees and snickered as I heard his footsteps come closer.

I peeked around to find him drawing near, flowers in hand. It was the custom, that if you spy the gift giver to chase them down for a kiss, though our love was that of friends. Mr. Finn caught me before I could get too far, lifting me from the ground and spinning in a circle with me, planting a chaste kiss to my cheek as we spun.

He set me down steady on my feet as I laughed dizzy, some of my flowers falling to the ground.

“Shall we go see if the carriage is ready, Miss Rey?” He asked, stooping down to help me pick up the lost flowers. He would be driving us into town in the open carriage while Lady Organa and Benjamin were to take the coach with Mr. Chewie to London.

I took his hand and we made our way to the garage and stables. As we neared I walked briskly ahead, picking fresh dandelions along the pasture fence to give to the horses, these fresh treats out of reach of their hungry snouts. Mr. Finn followed, my flowers tucked into his breast pocket.

We arrived to find Mr. Chewie and one of his grooms had prepared our carriage well. It smelled of new varnish and glistened in the sun outside of the garage. All it lacked was the horses, though that would wait. He and his newly hired groom now spent their time polishing and cleaning the coach, used for longer travels, the very same I rode in on my arrival to Alderaan.

I made my way to the stable and began offering up my dandelions to each of the horses in turn, whispering my May Day greetings as they clomped their hooves in thanks. I paused at Falcon's door to give her the most gentle of strokes. I wished to ride her, but even though I had been diligent in my training, Mr. Chewie was yet to relent and kept me on the pony. I stepped up on a small wood box to give her my freshly picked weeds. She snorted at my offering of dandelions.

“You beast!” I accused her, “You _are_ finicky.” I had watched her in the pasture nibbling on dandelions before, and now she refused me. I picked a stem of lavender from the bundle I had for Mr. Chewie, and she seemed appeased, nibbling at its end before swiping at the rest with her tongue to try to pull them into her mouth.

I left the remaining dandelions in her basket and jumped down from my box, making my way to the polished carriage to climb into it. The interior was a soft leather seat with velvet backing, cushioned and comfortable. I yawned, tired from my early day and lay myself upon the cushion, basking in the morning sun. I listened as Finn and Chewie discussed their plans, choosing carefully the draft horses to be used for each journey. It was decided Mr. Finn would receive the more docile of the beasts, our journey being short and he himself less experienced in driving them. A soft tapping along the side made me peek with one eye to see Mr. Finn waiting with the door open and a merry smile.

“Out ye go, Miss. We're about to put the horses to the carriage. Run along to find Ms. Rose for us, I'll drive up to the doors when ready.” He brandished his hand to help me step from the carriage like a gentleman, though I hopped out upon the last step. I rushed inside the garage to poke at the back of Mr. Chewie, shyly offering him the tiny bundle of lavender flowers when he turned.

“Oh, what a pretty present! Takes me back to me youth, it does.” He tugged on my hair ribbons with a wink, his whiskers twitching, and tucked my lavender into his pocket. I laughed and ran away before he could tickle me with a whiskery kiss, back to the house to collect Rose, ribbons loose and flapping behind me from his teasing.

She was waiting for me inside the parlor, gathering the wreaths and garlands to decorate the door. Inside was also Lady Organa and Mr. Mitaka. He would go with them as well, attending to Benjamin, but he was currently occupied with a thick itinerary booklet that Lady Organa kept for her business and events, she herself gave her full attention to a stack of correspondence in front of her.

Benjamin was not present, and I wondered if he slept or if he was preparing for his journey as well. _He has had enough of my flowers_ , I thought to myself, as I had neglected to make a bundle for him as well. Madam Kanata helped Rose gather the garlands.

“Such a lovely arrangement, you are sure to have some merriment this afternoon.” She complimented our work before she fussed with my ribbon, fixing it into a pretty bow atop my head.

“Won't you come?” I pouted, wrapping a garland around myself to carry to the door.

“I have had the pleasure of many May Days, dearest. 'Tis a holiday for the young, no dew can erase these wrinkled.” She gave me wry smile, taking my chin in her hand. “I am going to help her Ladyship prepare for her trip London.”

“When will you return from London, my Lady?” I turned now to Lady Organa, as she poured over her letters.

“I suppose at the end of the season, and no doubt I will see you for Christmas.” She promised, her attention not yet faltering from the letter in front of her.

“I have sent telegram to the Doctor, my Lady. They know of our arrival and needs.” Mr. Mitaka assured as he made to check off several things within his own book.

“With Benjamin?” I asked, redirecting the conversation back to Lady Organa. If I was honest, I was more keen to see her return rather than her incorrigible son. We had not yet ridden the estate trails as she had said we would.

“Good, Mitaka. We also have need to employ a mason for the ramp at the back porch. He should have references, I believe Mrs. Holdo has recently secured the foundations of her townhouse, she would perhaps have a recommendation.” She told him, ignoring my questioning for a moment.

“I hope so, Rey.” She quietly offered as she turned to me briefly, though she did not seem certain. I stood there a moment, watching as she wrote her letter and Mitaka took note of his new task.

She returned her attention to Mitaka, “I should also like to arrange a private dinner with the Netals while we are in London. It would be wise to gain sense of his obligations to vote on the board this year.” Mr. Mitaka hummed in agreement, writing quickly as he did.

I scowled thinking of the Netals, though they had been kind and welcoming, their daughter Bazine was rather dull. She went on about how she would be going to France for school, and how I would be in the country like a bumpkin. I hoped to never see her again, though it was unlikely. The Netals were also shareholders and board members of the Trading Empire, no doubt they would be brought into my circle as I entered society. Hopefully Bazine would be married off by then, living in her own country estate, a bumpkin in kind.

Madam Kanata led me away, passing me a pretty crown of braided flowers. I waved my goodbyes to Lady Organa and Mitaka, only to find the carriage and horses waiting to take us into the village. Mr. Finn dismounted from the box seat to assist us in hanging the garland and wreath on the great door to the house. When we finished I climbed into the carriage, carefully fussing with the ringlet of flowers on my head. It matched Rose's wide brim hat with its circlet of fresh flowers and leaves along the top.

We set off, Mr. Finn clicking at the horses as we went. Our ride was not terribly long and the carriage bumped along the stony dirt road, some lingering puddles from the recent rains splashed below us as the horses made way. Rose had ensured we brought jackets and parasols in the event that the weather turned, as it so often did, but our ride so far was sunshine and warmth. I bounced around within the carriage, peeking over the sides and out into the familiar woods and fields we passed beyond.

“Shall I take the scenic route, Miss Rey?” Mr. Finn called from his seat. I scrambled to my knees to hang over the front of the carriage to speak to him more clearly.

“Will it take longer to get there?” I asked him. I had taken several trips to town before, a small village with a large center well and surrounded by fields and pastures full of cows and sheep. The village had many shops, a bookstore and confectionery among my favorite to visit. Mr. Chewie enjoyed use of a tavern when he took us to town as we did our shopping, and sometimes I peeked inside to look at the curious men and women in their cups.

“Not by much. It will be well worth it, I promise.” Mr. Finn assured, and so he led us along a new dirt road with my approval, and I took in the surrounding woods and pastures, unknown to me.

“Look there, Miss.” Rose pulled me from one side of the carriage to the other so that I might look out upon a field spotted with the most glorious sight.

“Oh! Look Mr. Finn, look!” I shouted, nearly standing up as we moved. Rose laughed, pulling me back to my seat while Finn slowed the carriage. There in the distance, across acres of rolling hills, a rainbow in the fields, wildflowers waving among the tall green and brown grass, washed together like a pretty painting. I could not help the wide smile at the gift before me.

“I thought you might like to see such a sight.” Mr. Finn called back to me as we rolled past to continue our journey. We passed some others walking or riding along the way, waving merry greetings to celebrate such a happy day as they made their way to the village proper.

When we finally arrived, Mr. Finn brought us near the center of town, making quick to jump down and help us from our seats like a gentleman. I thanked him graciously as I stepped down with more grace now that I was in public.

“I will meet you at the well when I have secured the horses.” He said as he mounted the carriage once more to park and stall the horses for the day.

The town center was busy, the inhabitants and newly arrived neighbors crowded around the center well. A large dressing of flowers stood near it as a mural scene. Some artist had taken slabs of clay and tacked petals and moss and kernels, one by one, into a lovely mosaic, blessed by the local deacon. One side was representative of the night, while the other showed the glory of the day.

Little fairies slept snugly inside bloomed flowers under a white petal moon. Under them, frogs and crickets jumped around, moving from one side to the other. In the day, beautiful birds with blue petals instead of feathers for their wings flew above, the sun represented by bright yellow flowers bundled all together. Thick red petals spelled out the year and name of the town, to stand out proudly.

I wished to run my fingers over it, but we all took great care not to spoil its splendor. Rose eventually pulled me away from the crowd so that we might wait along the edges of the square for Mr. Finn and the beginning of the parade. People came and went, wishing to get a look at the well dressing, as pretty as it was. I looked around impatiently, wishing to see the May Queen. It was not long before Mr. Finn joined us with our picnic basket in hand.

Soon the clashing sound of joyous music began, and I jumped with glee as a man in a hobby horse costume clopped around on the cobblestones around the well, bumping into the people and children to rile them, making fun in his costume. A group of musicians followed around him, playing their tune with drums and bells and horns.

“Rose, why is there a horse? Where is the May Queen?” I craned my neck as I watched, the tune and words unknown to me. They went on as they marched towards the village green, and others began to join their song.

“Ah, that's the 'Obby 'Oss, Miss.” Rose began to sing along as I watched the hobby horse lead the people away as their their song continued into the next verse. “They'll lead us and the May Queen to the maypole. Just a bit of fun.”

“Where? Where is she?” I bounced up, looking around for the goddess in all her glory.

Mr. Finn helped me stand tall on a railing so that I might catch a glimpse of the merry group of young ladies, clad in white and ivory gowns with hair curled and crowned and flowing in the most delicate of flowers. Ivy ran down through their curls, and at the front of them they were led by another. The surrounding crowd threw petals into the air so that they rained down from the heavens.

“There she is!” I gasped and pointed as I spotted the May Queen. She stood tall and proud with honey hair adorned in her crown of white flowers, her hands bundled around a large bouquet and a brightly embroidered sash ran from her shoulder to waist. We all clamored around them, following as she led us with a bright smile to the maypole, herself and the others singing gaily along.

With urgency I began to pinch my cheeks again to darken them. Mr. Finn guffawed at my winces, “What are you doing, girl?

“It's to make it look like rouge!” I told him stubbornly, carrying on. He and Rose shared a laugh, earning a contemptible look from myself for their teasing.

“Don't grow up too fast, Miss Rey.” Rose whined, wrapping her arms around my shoulders to hug me tight. I shimmied from her grasp and hurried ahead to keep my eyes on the May Queen and they followed behind me.

She led her group of ladies to a raised platform near the maypole and they took their seats as I watched with jealous adoration, rubbing my cheekbones, now throbbing from my torment.

“Why are they up there?” I asked Rose, craning my neck and pulling her and Finn closer to the dais so that we might have a better look.

“That's the May Queen and her court ladies, they'll oversee the maypole dance.” She said as I dragged her closer.

“I want to be a May Queen! I want to come out on May Day!” I turned to Rose, shaking her arm with a new fervent desire.

“You'll have a grand party in London, Miss Rey. Lots of young women debut in May. I'm sure Lady Organa would arrange it.” Rose held tight to my hand. We watched as a string of young women walked to the pavilion in hand with a young man, perhaps their very own beaus. They were finely dressed with bright smiles and flowers in their hair, and they curtsied to the May Queen before moving along to make way for the next girl.

“Oh, would she? I really _must_ come out on May Day.” I insisted. I looked on wistfully at the May Queen and her court, so pretty and fine and mature as they sat above us all, the epitome of feminine beauty and grace. In my mind, it was settled. There would be no other day that would suffice, and I would do everything in my power to see my wish granted.

I sighed longingly. _If I must come out to make myself eligible to marry a man of Grandfather's choosing, couldn't I take some joy in it?_ These young ladies were the daughters of the simple inhabitants of the country. They did not have an ostentatious presentation in a stuffy hall lit by candelabra in the city. They basked in the glory of the sun and one of them was lucky enough to be picked as the May Queen.

I had been promised a debut into high society, and my very own party to celebrate my good fortune. Lady Organa would organize my coming out, throwing a ball in my honor in London to those that would accept the invitation. _Would it be too scandalous to be presented as a flower maiden in the sun?_

The May Queen and her court ladies laughed and giggled from the dais, picking at fresh fruits and small cakes, taking sips of honeyed wine served to them by other young girls like myself, not yet old enough to take a seat with them. Rose shook me from my stare and checked that my flower crown was well secured and my ribbon was knotted tightly.

“The maypole dance will begin, are you ready?” She was all smiles as she led me to the center of the field, the dance and maypole the only thing to tear my attention away from the May Queen. A group of children stood around a woman who directed them. We had been instructed in the movement of the dance, it was a simple pattern, over and under as we went around the maypole.

I looked up and up, my neck bent back to take in the height and glory of the wonderful monument. It stood high and mighty, from the top sprouted green leafy branches. Long strips of fabric spiraled out from under the them, pinned down securely to the ground in a wide circle around the maypole. I bounced anxiously on the balls of my feet as the woman instructed us to choose a ribbon.

I ran out with the others, selecting a pretty cerulean blue. I held to it tight, spinning round to find Rose and Finn standing near. Mr. Finn had an arm wrapped around Rose's shoulder, holding her near, they were more conspicuous in their relationship here. I smiled and waved to them in turn, listening for the starting bells and sound of music to let us know to begin our dance.

The May Queen and her ladies stood at the front of their dais and the woman who instructed us counted off as they began their song. _Oh, what joy!_ I skipped in circles with the others, smiling and laughing as we passed and ducked each other. I took glimpses of our progress and the crowd around us, clapping and cheering us on as we danced for them, dressing the maypole in a beautiful pattern of woven colored ribbons. I took time to catch glimpses of the May Queen and her court ladies with each pass. Her cheeks were blushing peaches as she sang, _no doubt she was permitted rouge_. I waved at her, hoping she saw me too.

When our dance was finished and our ribbons too short to cross each other, we instead passed the ribbon to the woman who nailed them down together to the pole. I rushed back to Rose in such a delight, beaming for all my participation in the dressing of the maypole.

“Isn't it wonderful?” I asked them excitedly, swooning with drunken happiness to turn and look at the beautiful colors of the pole crossed and bright in the midday sun.

“It's a lovely day for May, Miss Rey.” Mr. Finn agreed with a wink, and I laughed at his poem. Rose beckoned us to find shade under a tree from the sun, pulling out a large berry pie from the picnic basket before taking it to a long table with other baked goods for all the revelers to share.

We sat together, eating our shrimp sandwiches and cheese that the cook prepared for us. It turned into a lazy afternoon after our meal, Mr. Finn laid out on the blanket with his cap over his face and blazer under his head, and Rose took to leaning against the tree in the cool shade. We strolled through the town, stopping inside shops and at stalls selling sweets and crafts. Mr. Finn had bought a large tanker of ale, spilling over the sides, and brought Rose a tart cider. She allowed me to take a small sip of hers, but offered no more.

She shooed me on to go play with the other children, and I ran around the lawns with them to play their games. I had a small coin purse in my pocket and bought candied treats, sitting before a puppet show as I crunched them between my teeth. Every so often I made my way back to Rose and Mr. Finn as she had instructed me, and she would fuss over me with great care and attention before I ran away again to play and swing from ropes tied to the branches of the surrounding trees for our enjoyment.

Along the green a great bonfire was being built, the coming night soon to turn the festival into a rowdy party. People had been dancing throughout the day as a group of troubadours played their tunes. They refilled their cups of ale and cider with the offerings from the tavern tents. My nostrils wiggled to the smell of mince pies and stews being cooked for the night feast, large pigs dripping and browned in their own fat on spits with legs of lamb. Rose had said we would not stay all night, but promised she would allow us to watch the lighting of the bonfire.

The sun was fading and the moon stood out in the day sky, not yet brightened by the night. I walked leisurely along the fence line, watching the people work their tents or sit at their long tables sharing their ale. I caught Mr. Finn and Rose dancing across the large field, happy in each others arms, resting atop the fence to watch them in their love and giggling at their bashful kisses.

A sudden fluttering in my chest stilled my sharing of their happiness. _Would I find a love like so with my husband?_ I began to fret as I watched them, the realization of my own impending nuptials to a man I had yet to meet creeping at me as the day faded with my own joy. I knew not what input I would have in choosing the man I was to marry. Grandfather made it sound as though I would have choices to entertain, but my own future was not my own, and I worried I might find my eventual betrothed lacking. _What if he was cruel? Or an old toad?_

I had observed Mother and Father dancing at their soirees, had seen their stolen kisses, had heard Mother's mirthful laugh while she was in his arms. I pushed the thought of them from my mind, shivering as the sky darkened with my own mood. I slipped from my post to meander along the dirt trail, absentmindedly following the path to a more wooded area, away from the noise and laughter.

It was now my wish to be alone in my plight, when suddenly a shimmer caught my eye, a small light to pull me from the dark thoughts and memories that threatened to cast me down into a familiar despair. I looked past all the others to see a woman standing by her own cart, a caravan of colors, colors she draped herself in with her layered skirts and pretty patterned blouse.

Her brass and gold jewelry had caught the last light of the sinking sun to draw my attention. It was now that we eyed each other from across the field in the dusky evening. Around her the night was settling, muting the surrounding woods she was nestled within. She stood out as a beacon to light my way.

I stood there, still and silent as I watched her slowly retreat back into her caravan, taking a peek behind her to meet my gaze one last time before she disappeared into its warm glow. I thought of the women in India with their all their gold and saris, and I hurried to her wheeled cottage to seek the comfort of her familiarity.

Each step I took was met with sudden trepidation as I reached her group, fingers worrying on one of the black ribbons on my dress. It seemed long ago that Rose had revealed to me that these people could see and vanquish the spirits and curses to those who were haunted. I gulped as I realized I was stepping closer to an inevitable truth.

I approached light footed, keeping my head down past the watchful eyes of her clan members. Some young ones ran around playing, and men stood in a large group around a campfire of their own, their language unknown to my ears and tongue, their women sitting nearby preparing their own foods. A few outsiders like myself mingled between them, and as I approached the wagon the woman stood at her door silently, a black figure lit from behind from the lighted lamps within.

She looked down at me with a prophetic gaze, her face as dark in shadows, eyes as blue as the afternoon sky. She wore her own floral crown woven in the rivulets of dark hair that flowed softly around her face. I stared back up at her, unsure if I wished to know the answer to the reason I approached her so carelessly.

We had understood each other in our silence. She reached forward, swinging her door open before stepping aside, permitting me to enter. I affirmed my heart to the truth, and made haste up the few steps that separated me from her mystical realm.

Inside I was comforted by soft lamp light and glowing embers in her stove. I sat carefully on a cushioned seat next to a small tea table, looking around to take in the trinkets and caches of goods she had within. It resembled a parlor, with a fine china tea set and little cupboards along the walls. _What treasures would she hold within?_ The inside smelled of strong cedar and dried herbs, bundles of dried flowers hung from the ceiling.

“Perhaps you'd like to buy one?” She asked, finding my gaze flickering about. I shook my head with wide eyes at her while she narrowed hers.

“The sage keeps away the spirits. I see a dark aura around you.” She continued as she took one of the bundles down and laid it on the table in front of me. I nodded, words escaping me as I stared with my mouth going dry as I gaped at her, pulling out my purse. _She saw death around me._

“A groat.” She took her seat as I pulled a coin from my purse and slipped it to her, grabbing the sage from the table to sniff it before shoving it into my pocket. I frowned at her now, wishing she might tell me more, not knowing how to ask. My eyes wandered about her little home again, plush bedding of silken pillows tucked at one end, a kettle hanging near the small iron hearth against the wall, on a shelf a little sphere nestled under a pretty cloth square, _a crystal ball_.

Again she found where my gaze landed, “I can't go reading fortunes for the likes of you. It's against law. I'll not be charged with vagrancy and have you crying to your parents-”

“My parents are dead.” I blurted out, interrupting her, hoping it might sway her to answer my question.

“Hmmm,” She considered me a moment, eyeing the black ribbons on my dress. “I suppose there would be little harm in gazing. Some girls are lucky to see the image of their husbands on May Day, if they look- ” She offered, making to grab the little sphere from its stand.

“No! No...” I interrupted her, shaking my head while trying to push past the fear I felt at facing the unknown. She looked at me dubiously now, no doubt wondering what would bring me to her. I was sure it was fate that had led me here.

I did not wish to gaze upon the likeness of my future husband, fearing I would not like what I would see within her magic ball. _He could be twisted and dark_ , and in my heart I knew I could not tolerate knowing of him. To live with such knowledge, each passing day would be a torment, bringing me ever closer to live under his governance. I shivered at the very thought.

I knew the secret I wished to know, but my heart raced and breath grew shallow as I gathered the courage to ask before meeting her eyes. “I wish to know.. _am I cursed_?” I finished in a whisper, leaning forward to her across the table.

She sucked in a breath and sat back in her seat, her lips pursed as she considered my question. “It will be a shilling, for me to read you.” She finally said and held out her palm. I dug into my purse and pulled out a silver coin. I watched my hand as if time had slowed, laying the coin in her palm, hesitating to let it go and complete our transaction. Finally, I released it. _I have come this far._

She inspected it, finally sticking it into her own purse, and after a moment, “Do you have a piece of jewelry? Something about you that you carry often? It will take on your spirit if you do, and perhaps I can gather and make sense of, _this_.” She waved her hand in front of her, alluding to the dark aura she said she saw around me.

“No.” I replied, defeated, my shoulders slumping as the great anxiety I felt at knowing quickly released me. I wore no jewelry, _the gifts Grandfather sent me were left in my jewelry box._

“Well then, the ribbon in your hair? Do you wear it daily?” She tried again, but I dismissed her attempt once more, shaking my head as I stared at the crochet pattern on her table cover. _My ribbons changed everyday._

I gasped, remembering the garden key wound tightly to ribbon and tucked inside my dress. I pulled around my collar to grasp the ribbon before pulling it out from my front, “This!” I offered it up to her, the heavy key swinging across her table. “I have been wearing it for many weeks now, perhaps my spirit is imprinted upon it? It unlocks a garden.”

 _It unlocks a tomb,_ I thought as she snatched it from my hands, holding to it tight as she inspected it before folding her palms over it. Closing her eyes, she held it to her lap and we sat in silence for what seemed like ages. Outside the festival raged on, but inside this wagon I stilled with bated breath as I waited for her to feel the curse I was sure clung to me.

The woman sat with the key in silence, her brows furrowing as time passed us. I released a breath, my lungs burning as I waited in anticipation for her answer. Finally, her head lurched forward to hang down in front of her, as if she had fallen asleep, and with great force she suddenly slammed the key down on the table in front of her, causing a great clatter and myself to spook and nearly fall out of my seat.

“What?! What is it? A curse!” I cried, fists now gripping the crochet cloth around her tea table.

She raised her head wearily, worry in her eyes as she stared into my own, growing wet with tears. _She was right_ , I felt like I could cry, and I wished to run to Rose and tell her of this terrible fortune. She took in deep breaths, once, twice, before clasping her hand tightly around my own wrist, the key now forgotten on the table.

“I see no curse tied to you, but..” She began, her voice now husky and changed. I listened with rapt attention to her every word. “This is no ordinary key. There is a darkness that surrounds you, and it clings tight. I fear your nights will grow darker. This key is now your talisman, and it may grant you passage through the dark realms that you will venture. You must keep it near you, accept its power, whether it brings ill will or fortune, it is now yours to own.”

“No... n-no. No!” I shook my head quickly, making to stand and leave, wishing to flee her dark cabin and the cursed key, but as I tugged my hand she tightened her grasp.

“Let go!” I hissed like a beast with its paw in a trap. She held tight to my wrist, pulling me near and halfway across the table as it clattered and shook by our tugging. She pushed the key back into my hand, curling my fist around it as I protested.

“I don't want it!” I tried to pry away her fingers with my own, thinking perhaps to bite her, but her strength was greater than my own, almost inhuman, and her eyes glimmered as she stared into my soul.

“Fear not, child.” She whispered. “I will give you a token of luck. Keep this key as you have, and you may have this.” She let go at once and I fell back into the chair with a thud, the key now secure in my trembling fist, cold and heavy.

I sat there panting, on the verge of a fit, as I watched her bleary form stand and open a cupboard, pulling out some black object as she turned back to me. She stepped forward, having not gone far in her small cabin, and dangled the charm in front of my quivering face.

Strapped in black leather, a black rabbit's foot dangled from her fingers. I eyed it, not wishing to accept it, a tear slipping from my eye and falling down my cheek.

“I don't want it.” I objected to her gift with force, jaw clenched, a hateful glare on my face at my hostess.

“Accept it.” She warned me. I scrunched my face, trying to hold back more tears, giving her a sour look before snatching it from her hand.

I looked down to my curled fists shaking in my lap. One hand held the iron key to the garden, a black device, in the other, the black foot of a poor rabbit, a new ward.

With a shuddering sob, I tore from her wagon and ran back to the party, and heard the woman calling from her lair, “Take care, girl!”

The bonfire was well lit, people cheered and howled around it in drunkenness. I finally paused near a fence post, sitting down to catch my breath. The air was cool, and my face chilled as my tears ran down and I gasped, my chest tight. My fists still clenched around the key and rabbit's foot, and I resigned to cry alone before I shoved both of the objects into my pockets on my dress.

I felt my coin purse within and made my way to a tent, thirsty. I slammed a silver down and pushed it to the barman. “A cider, please.” I demanded, sniffling.

“Eh?” Was all he offered, picking up the silver and biting on it. Some of the other patrons sat perched on stools around his table, and laughed at me.

“Give 'er a drink, Toby!” One of them clumped his tanker on the wood before throwing his head back and draining it. “Give me a drink too with that silver!” He and others laughed louder, begging for a drink as well.

“Ah, what the hell.” The barman filled a large cup and pushed it to me, pocketing the silver piece I laid out for him. I walked away before he could change his mind, clutching the cup as the frothy drink sloshed on my front and the patrons howled behind me, clacking their cups as they cheered.

I drank the warm cider as I walked along the field, watching through bleary eyes as the fire burned beyond and people danced around it. I thought back to what Benjamin had said, _This was an unholy festival,_ taking gulps of the drink in my cup and belching to taste its heavy, sour flavor once more.

I wandered around in the dark, watching the people in what I saw now as their very own debauchery and sin. Most of the children my age were gone, only some remained, dressed in poor clothing and running around between the adults. A bawdy song was being howled by a group near some tables, and I stopped to stare at a woman sitting on a man's lap, his hands wandering underneath her blouse. It seemed she was not the only one, and many couplings were taking place throughout the field, behind trees and corners, in the dark or in the firelight. A constable paroled near, but he made no effort to stop their lewd behavior.

I carried on, my drink nearly empty, skipping past a man retching onto the ground. Now instead of sadness I was unsure what I felt. My head was light and fuzzy, my whole body warm instead of cold and shivering as before. I felt dizzy and stumbled, and used the fence to hold and guide me closer to the bonfire.

 _Rose!_ She would be looking for me, no doubt. I scanned around, the outer perimeter now cloaked in complete darkness, and the figures dancing and wandering around the field were black shadows in the distance. I could hardly spot the people in front of me, let alone the tree we had lunched as I thought perhaps she and Mr. Finn would be waiting for me there. I sniffled, feeling my tears coming on as the dark feelings in my heart stirred within me and I grew fearful I was alone.

“Rey!” I shriek from nearby. It was Rose's voice! I tried to stand straight and spinned around in a circle.

“Rose!” I cried when I spotted them, she and Mr. Finn ran toward me.

“Where have you been? I've been worried sick! We've been looking for you. Are you hurt?” Her voice warbled, and in the light of the bonfire I could see her face was puffy with tears as she clung tight to my shoulders, sinking down on her knees.

“I... _hic-_ ” I made to answer, but instead she was greeted with the stench of my breath.

She gasped, snatching the cup from my hands and smelling it. “Ale?!” She was angry now, dumping the contents to the ground.

“ _That's mine!_ ” I shouted back, swiping for the cup, angry she'd think to dump _my_ drink. My sadness now gave way to anger, my desire for love and care quickly morphed back into the beast it once was, as I reveled instead in desire to sin and misbehave.

It was what I did before I left for England, before I was torn from Nani. Mother and Father never had time for me, they never cared for my stories. I sought their attention and filled the hole they created by raging against the servants and staff. I demanded fun and toys and cakes in lieu of their attention. I ripped my lesson books and refused to sit and learn, preferring to run about as I pleased. They would always relent, it was the easiest thing to do, and when it did not quell my despair I simply demanded more. It was Grandfather who beat it out of me. Only he was not here, and I knew Rose would not strike me.

“Oh, heavens! I'm in for it now.” She turned to Finn with her face in her hands, and he held her as she leaned on his shoulder.

 _She wouldn't want anyone to know. I didn't either, but she didn't know that. I would die if I lost Rose_ , but I realized then that I had the upper hand. I quickly rode down my guilt with stubbornness and anger.

“I want to dance.” I demanded of her, petulant.

“Absolutely not! We're going home, _right now._ ” She made to grab my hand but I snatched it away, stumbling back into the fence and nearly falling over.

“Rosie.. she's near drunk.” Mr. Finn warned her lowly, “We can't take her back like this.”

“I _want_ to _dance._ ” I said again, straightening up with help from the fence.

“We were supposed to be back near an hour ago, Jon!” Rose hissed at him, and I stood angrily by as they whispered back and forth with what to do with me. I made to run away toward the bonfire, but a firm hand snatched my arm and turned me around.

Mr. Finn scowled down at me and I kicked at him. “Let me go!” I yelled, squirming in his grasp.

“Hey, hey now!” He bent down on his knee, holding my shoulders so that I would stop squirming. “How about we have a little dance, eat a little supper, and then we'll head back home. Right, Miss Rey?” He offered, turning to Rose. “She can have a little dance, and then we'll take her home.”

Rose stood nearby, biting at her nails. Mr. Finn held tightly to my arm, refusing to release me as I swayed and scowled at both of them. Rose finally relented, nodding.

“Madam is going to kill me, I'm sure of it. She always runs off!” She continued as we walked towards the bonfire and music, and stood nearby with crossed arms, tapping her fingers impatiently.

Mr. Finn danced with me until I was swaying and leaning into him as I stood, arms wrapped tightly about his waist to keep myself from sinking. Finally, when I did not protest, he guided me to the carriage, horses already hitched and ready to go. Mr. Finn disappeared a moment before bringing back a warm baked pie. “Make sure she eats.” He told Rose as she helped me into the carriage, tucking a blanket around us that Mr. Finn grabbed from the boot.

“I'll take the long way back, give us a bit of time.” He consoled Rose, who nodded. I ate the pie with two hands, suddenly ravenous, licking the gravy from my fingers and picking bits of crust off the blanket to nibble.

“Who gave you that ale, Rey?” She nudged me with her elbow, thoroughly angry with me.

“The barman!” I answered, as if she should know. “For a silver piece!”

“How many did you have?” Mr. Finn whipped his head around before driving on while Rose snorted.

“Just the one. I'd like another.” I told him, earnest. “And another pie.”

“There will be no more. You're not to do that again.” Rose chastised. “I could be fired! You're a mean drunk, you know.”

I burst into tears, now clinging to her, wailing incoherent apologies. She shushed and consoled me until I quieted. I lay there in her lap, watching the moon and stars pass overhead as the carriage bumped along the dark path, our only light a small lantern swinging at its head. Rose combed my hair through her fingers as I blinked up at the darkness, pondering on what the woman had told me. _A dark aura surrounds you_. I sniffled, my tears falling again into Rose's lap.

I came to as Mr. Finn urged me out of the carriage and into his arms. Their plan was to sneak me upstairs in my exhaustion. Rose distracted Madam Kanata when she came to see what delayed us, going to the kitchens to put on some tea. I put on a good show of it myself, hanging limply and sleepily in Finn's arms as he hurried up the steps to lay me in my bed, the smell of ale clung to my dress.

“Look there, Miss Rey, a pretty May Day bouquet.” He pat my head before he left to take in the carriage, and Rose returned with warm tea that she forced me to drink before she began to undress me as I lay limp, refusing to help as she grumbled.

I turned my head to blink sleepily at my beside table. There, an arrangement of flowers of the purest white. Tulips and roses and hydrangeas wrapped in twine and ribbon lay on my nightstand. I reached over and pulled them to my breast, smelling their sweet scent, and lamented at having no chance to bestow a kiss to the giver as I drifted into an imbibed sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben steals a secret.

A shuffling from beyond my bed curtains stirred me from my restless sleep. Shadows flickered between the seams of the canopy as the low light of a candle tickled my eyelids until I opened them fully. The sharp pain of the light pierced in the blackness to rouse me further.

_Rose?_ Realizing someone else was within, I rose slowly on my elbow, the heaviness of rest still encumbering my limbs and sight so that I squinted in my sleepy state, listening to what sounded like soft laughter beyond my curtain. I strained to listen to the dampened sounds.

I drew back the curtain to reveal the dark room, my heart stuttering in my chest as I saw it was still night and Rose should not be within. The somber light of the moon barely reached past the curtained windows. Instead of cold moonlight, a soft glow of a candle lamp illuminated my bedroom, stirring the wall paper flowers to dance and flicker as the trespasser snorted near the hearth.

I blinked uncertainly at the source of the noise. The shuffling I heard was that of soft pages being turned in a book. I leaned on my mattress, poking my head out from a gap in the curtains as I took in the black form across the room.

“What are you doing here?” I yawned at the familiar phantom, his visage lit well in the soft flamed light he carried while his back was shadowed in darkness. I was unperturbed, he would find no fresh flowers in my room tonight, however, as my mind and hearing sharpened in my awareness, I began to comprehend his true form.

Hunched over near my writing desk, his face glowing by candlelight, memories of my first encounter with the monster came to mind. Only now his heavy eyebrows were knitted in strict concentration as they roved over a book in hand. His large nose gave him a refined profile, sharp and noble, but his lips twitched with amusement as he flipped through the leather bound book.

My mouth hung loose in outrage. It was my very own journal! Within its pages written the sordid secrets of my heart and mind, my greatest desires and wishes, my truest fears! An amused smile lit his face as he perused my written word.

“This is my house. You're my guest.” He was flippant as he finally answered my question, turning another page.

“What do you think you're doing?” I slapped my mattress, expressing some of the boiling anger ready to explode within me, but was otherwise still with disbelief. The indignation of his trespass and my own mortification that he would be reading my journal paralyzed me.

“You feel so lonely here,” he began to recite from memory as he continued to flip through inked pages, “You wish to leave, but are afraid to go back to your Grandfather. Instead, you imagine the ocean... an island paradise.” He finished his mockery of my fantasies of escape, eyes gleaming with devilish amusement.

I scrambled from my bed, slapping away the curtains with a rage I did not realize I could possess before I burst across the room. I made to snatch the journal from him, but he reacted quickly and held out his hand to thwart me, blocking my attempts to take back what was mine. His other arm stretched the opposite direction, well away from both of us, extending too far for me to lean over and take it back. His chair blocked my path around him, wedged between my table and sofa. I would have to run around or climb over it, and by then, he would have simply moved the journal to his other hand.

He turned his attention away from me, holding the journal sideways so that it's bound pages fell open as he scanned it in the flickering light, breathing out a tut as he read, “You like to think of Han and Leia as the parents you never had..”

I sputtered as I scrambled nearly on top of him, reaching and snatching at the journal beyond his grasp, my arms too short to span the gap between him and his own hand.

“They would only disappoint you.” He responded testily to my tantrum, giving me a hard shove away and causing me to stumble back a few steps. His brows furrowed and he huffed, looking down his long nose to my flurried writing, but otherwise he ignored me. He appeared larger now, a healthy amount of weight to him, his cheeks no longer sunken into his face though he was still slim.

I frowned, panting heavily through gritted teeth and balled fists, watching with shaking rage as he quickly flipped through several more pages, not caring to read them. It was as though he were searching for something written there, though I could not feign to know what it could be. It was like a bad dream.

“Ahhh...” He sighed, satisfied with his silent inquisition, tapping at the page he read from. My journal was brought closer to the light as he read, the threat of my fight to see it returned no more as I stood nearby, immobile and puffing red with anger.

He turned to look at me now, his features darkening, amusement and mirth gone completely, only anger crossed his face, “So you have found the key.”

With quick ferocity I let loose a snarl and snatched my journal from his hands. He let it go easily, practically handing it back to me.

I met his eyes, ready to argue, but in his anger I saw that he was accusing me of something. I had upset him, harboring this secret.

“Now you'll give it to me.” He snapped his fingers and held out his palm expectantly. It was an order, a command. There was no room for disagreement or negotiation with him.

I could only look upon him with complete disgust and fury, all words escaping me, the only sound issuing from me was that of my vengeful breaths. He sat in cool indifference to his abhorrent behavior, his head held high and jaw set with absolutely no shame for sneaking into my bedroom and stealing my secrets. He cleared his throat with impatient arrogance.

“ _I'm not giving you anything._ ” I spat out, now holding the journal to my chest, wrapped securely in both my arms like a precious thing.

He returned my scowl, gripping the wheels of his chair as he spun it to face me now. He too was in his pajamas and night robe, no blanket covered him to protect from the room's creeping chill as my hearth embers died out hours ago.

“You know I can take whatever I want.” He whispered, a promise to steal away my black key. A threat already guaranteed as he had stolen my flowers and now my very thoughts.

“You can take your _leave_.” I fumed, pointing to my door, standing straight and tall in effort to regain some of my dignity.

His chair moved forward, only a bit, enough to make me take several steps back. The candlelight left his face as he looked away, his expression almost unreadable in darkness. I could make out some features in the light through the window against his alabaster skin, his jaw moved in silence as his black eyes stared out the window in thought of his next move.

I wondered for a moment if he would try to take back my journal as well. _Would he hurt me? Twist my arm until I cry and relent?_ I shivered as I retreated, but my body buzzed with sudden adrenaline to see our fight through. _I shall not give it up!_

My key was well hidden, currently under the mattress. I kept it near at night, remembering the dark prophetess and her ill fortune. It called to me morning and night, and I had grown obsessed with it, sometimes moving it from one spot to another, fretting over it, never returning to unlock the garden door since that fateful night.

“I have been looking for that key.” He stated calmly, returning his black eyes to me, “Then you came along, running around wherever you please.” He finished in hushed thought, eyes trailing down to my bare feet. I looked down at my offensive toes, curling in the plush rug. He must have spent his miserable days watching me play outside, _he is just jealous!_ I told myself, looking back up, ready to match him with my own tempestuous emotions.

“I saw the rose in your hair that day, and the more I thought about it, I realized you must have found a way in. We do not have _wild_ rose bushes on the grounds.” He looked so pleased with himself now, and I realized I could not deny that I had been to the garden. I gulped, debating my answer.

“I don't have it anymore.” I shrugged, my voice raising an octave in my skittish anxiety. _It is my cursed key and I wouldn't be giving it to him!_

“Liar.” He accused me true. I turned on the balls of my feet, marching towards the door to open it so that he might leave. Instead of following as I expected of him, I heard a sudden grit of wood sliding out behind me. I spun around to see him rifling through my desk, hands scrambling noisily in barely lit drawers as he searched for a prize not there.

_You won't find it there, you fool._ However, instead of providing such a clue, I rushed forward and slammed the drawer shut, forcing him to attempt to pull his hand out several times as I beat the drawer against his wrist, demanding he leave without permitting it.

“ _Get. Out. Of. My. Room._ ” I punctuated each growled word with another sharp thrust of the drawer. It was a small pleasure to hear him wince. Now it was my turn to eject him from my room, though he was far less frightened of me than I had been of him.

“I should tell your mother!” I hissed at him quietly, not wishing to shout or bring attention, worrying the key may be confiscated from us entirely. I bristled as I wondered how many nights he had sneaked in here like a foul rover as I slumbered, my anger reaching a new high as I listened to his entitled demands, hushed as he tried to keep quiet as well.

“That key belongs to me. I have looked for it since I was a boy and you will not keep it from me.” He yanked a different drawer open, watching me as if daring me to try and stop him. I grabbed his forearm with both hands, attempting to pull him away, but he possessed greater strength than I. Thus we tussled, my nails clawing at him, trying to pull his hand from my desk, while he tried to insert himself within it.

I gave up in a huff, and rather than see him ransack my belongings, hurried to his back so that I might grab tight to the handles of his chair. With great and sudden force I yanked him away from my desk, the chair wheels easing the struggle as they rolled back, unfettered, while he snatched at the air before him in surprise.

He growled out a shocked sound, likely outraged that I would dare touch his chair to evict him, and scrambled a moment before he made sense to grab onto the wheels, suddenly halting our movement and locking us in place, refusing to budge another inch to my door.

“I told you to leave!” I pulled his chair to the right, in effort to spin him towards the door, and it stuck to a crease on the lumpy rug, stuck again as he held tight whilst I maintained my tugging, grunting in effort.

He waited a moment before he let out a quick laugh, “You can't make me move. You're not strong enough.”

I made use of the full weight of my body as I leaned away from him, straining in effort until it began to stutter across the rug while he tugged the other direction, trying to maintain course back towards my desk.

“Let go!” He barked at me, his own growls of frustration echoing mine as we ripped at the chair, pulling and pushing in forceful opposition.

With a disgruntled roar I released him, and with his own strength no longer fighting with my own, caused one side of the chair to raise, threatening to topple. The seconds on the mantle clock stilled as I watched the chair rock back and forth for the smallest of moments.

Indeed it crashed to its side. He fell forward from it first, the chair following him, landing slightly on top of him as he hit the floor on his stomach with a grunt.

“Oh!” I gasped, not expecting him to be ejected. I had only wanted him gone from the room.

He scrambled up quickly to sit, spinning around to give me a hateful glare as I stood there useless with my own shock at his embarrassment.

He began to right the chair, slapping my hands away as I made to help, a sour expression on his face as he clenched his jaw in shame, his weakness exposed.

“Well, if you would have just left-” I began, though I did not allow myself to feel sorry in the least bit. I suppose I was smug about it, to see him brought so low after suffering my own humiliation just moments before by his own actions.

“Shut up!” He hissed, climbing to sit in the upturned chair and straightening his robe and pajamas in his seat. He wheeled himself away now to the door as I stared after him, no fight left in him to search my room. He stopped at the door a moment, fist wrapped around its knob, and shot me a dark look over his shoulder.

“You'll give me the key, eventually.” He promised angrily before swinging the door open with such a force the knob hit the wall behind it with a thud. It bounced back, knocking into his chair, though he seemed unbothered. I watched him disappear silently into the dark hall from whence he came, standing in the flickering light of the small flame he left behind.

~*~

The next morning I left my bed reluctantly, prodded by Rose, my grumbles ignored as usual. She and Maz afforded me fewer moments to myself these days, their patience worn thin from my increasingly erratic behaviors. I grumbled when I learned my breakfast would not be brought up to me this morning, instead Rose did her best to coax me down the stairs to the dining room after we argued for a moment about my dressing.

I expected to find Lady Organa, but instead found Benjamin sitting at the table alone except for a footman who assisted with breakfast. I scanned the room as I sat grumpily across from him, flourishing my napkin and refusing to meet his eye. A place setting where Maz usually dined was being cleared away, no doubt my delay caused me to miss her.

“Good morning.” Benjamin expressed the usual greetings in a dull tone. He was merely reciting rehearsed pleasantries with no pleasantness at all, a false propriety.

“You're late.” He reproached me. When he received no answer, “Are you sleeping well?”

I afforded him a small impatient sigh, still refusing to look at him. Indeed, I had not slept well. After his twilight visit I fretted over my precious key, finding it safest to sleep with it around my neck as I lay in bed wondering how I would continue to keep the garden nightmare my own.

I continued to pointedly ignore him, opting instead to eye the deviled kidneys heaped on a tray in front of us, carefully selecting one before sniffing at the meat to try to smell for signs of rot. I decided it would be best not to eat it, placing it back on the tray. A footman approached with water, aiming to fill my cup, but quickly I held my hand over the top to give him pause so I might ask, “Has it been boiled well?”

“Of course, Miss. Always.” The footman reassured. I nodded for him to carry on, removing my hand from the glass and watched him pour perfectly clear water into the sparkling cup. Normally Rose brought my breakfast, and I was certain I could trust her to ensure it was prepared with the greatest care to ease my nerves.

Benjamin watched me from across the table. I refused to meet his eye, instead selecting a thick piece of toast and slathering it with butter and jam, which I also inspected for any hint of mold, carefully dabbing bits on my tongue to see if they had gone sour.

When I deemed the breakfast safe to eat, I finally took a great bite of my toast, chewing slowly so that I might count each bite it took to soften the food before I swallowed. I pretended to find great interest in the china cabinet as I counted to myself. I had needs to count each bite until I could force myself to swallow the food, and for soup and other liquids, I merely counted in seconds, pretending I was masticating instead so as not to draw attention. If I did not count to ensure the safety of my swallows, I was like to choke and die in my chair.

“Mother said you were showing signs of hysteria.” He said aloud, cutting into his own kidney breakfast, applying it to his toast before taking an unsightly bite in front of me. My cheeks reddened that he would bring up my plight so casually at the breakfast table. It was unseemly chatter, no doubt he was emboldened by our guardian's absence. The footman stood still and silent, but the servants likely gossiped over my wretched state.

“You ought to pray first, perhaps God will bless the food you eat.” He mused when I did not answer him, chewing at his own food.

I sucked in a breath, heat coloring my neck now as well as my cheeks, from embarrassment or anger I could not be sure as I tapped my fingers on the table before sipping at my water to ignore his teasing, beginning another count down.

I suppose I had been hysterical as of late. May Day had ended bitterly, my passing isolation left me to dwell on that dark night. Thus, I began to feel the same dread I had when I first came here clawing at my mind. It felt ages ago, but it had only been a few months.

My birthday had come to pass and the dreary fall began to flood the grounds, yet I drowned further in my sorrow. I grew anxious and fitful once more, worrying at what ill fate I might be met with in my future. My mind could only wonder at the endless possibilities, the books in the library aiding the fantastical imaginations of my very own death.

I kept the key close, and the rabbit's foot, wearing one or the other daily. Even now I stuck my hand into my pocket to press hard against the key, feeling its roughness to remind me of what the woman had revealed. I kept it close always, touching it so that its dark power might feed me when my soul grew hungry.

I poked at the toast on my plate, forcing myself to take another bite and gulp of water as Benjamin watched in curious silence. My fear of cholera, or any illness, seemed to return with haste to occupy a space in my thoughts, and I found myself fearing such pestilence would make its way to my body through the very food which sustained me. So I withered once more. Even the horses could barely tempt me out, as I feared the flies that swarmed the yard in the summer heat, ever present. _I could not risk it,_ and chose to wait for Lady Organa to take me riding in the fresh air on the estate grounds, as she had promised.

I looked at him finally, seeing him clearly in the day. He had in fact filled out, his appetite well returned after spending his summer in London under the care of his doctors. He did appear longer, sitting higher in his dining chair. _Or perhaps I felt smaller?_ My past excitements, future hardships, and latest embarrassment felt as if they reduced me to almost nothing.

I scanned him now grasping tight to the key in my pocket. He was well groomed, his hair combed, though not slicked back and as short as before. He allowed it to cover his ears instead. He was dressed fully in starched shirt and black trousers with a matching vest, his jacket slung on the back of his wheelchair, forgotten a moment in the corner of the room before my eyes landed on it.

“Where is Mr. Mitaka?” I finally asked, recalling the last meal I had in this room with them.

“In London, with Leia.” His reply was curt as he stabbed at the kidneys on his plate. My heart quickened some at his bitter tone, wondering if I had riled his temper. The carpet had been well cleaned, presently a new canvas for a lamb kidney application.

“Lady Organa is not returned as well?” I was surprised, and perplexed, many people were returning to their country homes now to take sport for the coming fall. _She said she would return at the end of the summer season._

“Why would she?” He stabbed another piece of thick kidney, dripping gravy.

“She said she would.” I quieted with disappointment, revealing my thoughts to him freely.

“Yes, well, society calls.” He brandished his fork through the empty room, shrugging at me with an expectant look that I would share in his indifference.

I took another small bite of my toast and began to count. _She probably just wished to stay away from you_. I blamed him, how unlovable he truly was, that he should be sent back here alone. He was so bitter and cross, a wretched beast afraid of weakness. But I had heard him sobbing for her, _I knew his fear, that she could not possibly love him back._

“I'm sorry to disappoint you, as it seems I am your only company.” He produced a bitter smile, no warmth in his eyes as they bore into mine. I felt he took some pleasure in knowing the disappointment of my new abandonment.

When I did not respond, he continued, “Or perhaps, it is _I_ who am made to suffer _you_ as my only company?” He cocked his head as he raised his glass to drink, the corners of his lips twitching in delight, making me ponder his cruel riddle.

My nostrils flared as I sat up in my seat to turn my chin up at him now, my own temper ready to face his as he baited my wrath with his own misery and taunts. My anger grew to the fact that he would dare be returned here at all, without the Lady Organa. It was surely his fault, in some way.

“Will Mr. Mitaka not return? When will your mother be back?” I pressed on with a shaking voice, impatient with him and hurt that Lady Organa would not arrive to see me as well, fearful to be stuck with him.

Benjamin dropped his fork on his plate, sighing with impatience as he looked down his long nose at me in cold regard. His sudden movement and the clatter of the silverware made me twitch with a sudden urge to throw my own plate. He was still angry with me from the prior evening, yet he seemed angrier still. Though, perhaps I was just the nearest thing for him to lash at, as his mother and his own custodian were not here as well. It was too much to bear.

“I have no inkling where that woman chooses to go nor do I care. Worry not, I'm sure she will send her lapdog to provide care to her ill and miserable children.” He snapped at me, throwing his napkin on the table. It appeared I had hit a nerve, but my own eye twitched as he took a swing at me with his harsh words. _Ill and miserable. Yes,_ _I suppose I am._

“Owen, my chair, please.” He barked his command at the waiting footman who hurried forward to bring the wheelchair near as I watched on, sour and pouting at the table. _Oh, he would make a fine Marquess, lording in tyranny over his servants and sycophants._

I watched him wheel himself from the room from my peripheral, giving him no satisfaction of my attention. _Lady Organa could simply take no more of him!_ There was no doubt in my mind this was the reason she sent him here alone. I slumped in my chair, staring at my toast with so few missing bites, seething that I was forced to bear the burden of abuse for his moods and misbehavior.

“I am finished, as well, Mr. Owen.” I told the footman quietly.

“So soon, Miss?” He cleared my plate as I nodded. Rose or Maz would just force a broth or some other meal on me soon enough.


End file.
